The Amulet Book 3: The Cloud Searchers
by Justin Durfee
Summary: Elf prince Trellis has failed to convince his father of his loyalty and joined Emily and her friends in their fight to free Alledia from the dreaded Elf King, and information pertaining to his weakness may be in a legendary city in the sky. Emily and Navin set out to find it, only to learn that it resides in the center of a raging storm system from which none have returned.
1. Prologue

Prince Trellis wandered through the thick foliage at the base of Demon's Head Mountain, fording streams, stumbling across rocks and tripping over protruding roots. The fog from the day before was starting to dissipate thanks to the sun, which was shining down through breaks in the leafy canopy above. The ancient trees—twisted and gnarled with age—seemed to reach out in an attempt to grab him, and the enormous umbrella mushrooms stood on their soft, fleshy stalks. One stream he forded was rather large, almost wide enough to be a small river and populated with species of fish that were completely alien to him. They nosed his ankles curiously, and one even tried to bit him, without success, and he used his stone to ward them off.

Finally, he stumbled out of the trees and into a small meadow. Looking up, he saw a flock of snowdips emerge from a nearby tree. The small white birds were named so for their winter habit of "dipping" into the snow; this, combined with their pure-white feathers, made them almost invisible. Shading his eyes against the sun's glare, he watched them rise into the blue sky and disappear beyond the edge of the canopy.

He yawned. He'd been walking all night long, trying to find his way out of the endless expanse of plantlife, and now he was tired and hungry. He'd managed to find a handful of tart berries on a bush that gave him enough energy to get this far. He knelt beside the stream, shaped his hand into a bowl and scooped up a handful of water, which brought to his mouth and slurped up greedily. After several handfuls, he felt sufficiently able to continue his journey. But just as he turned to go on, he spotted a set of footprints. Deciding his escape from this living prison could wait, he followed the trail.

It led deeper into another part of the forest. As the trees thickened and the light from the sun diminished, he realized the footprints headed into a cave even darker than the gloomy part of forest he'd been led to. He hesitated, trying to decide whether he should follow the footprints into the cave. And that's when he heard it. Crack! Crack! Crack! His curiosity now piqued, he entered the cave, though common sense told him to do otherwise. His stone sensed the darkness, and lit up to illuminate his way.

Trying to discern which direction the cracking sound was coming from was difficult to say the least. It echoed off the walls, seeming to come from everywhere at once, but he eventually found its source. A bald, naked man knelt before him, seemingly oblivious to his presence, bringing the rock in his hands down on a small stone again and again. The man was thin almost to the point of emaciation, and he had an elf's ears. It could only be…

"Luger," Trellis said.

Luger froze, then slowly turned and looked up to see the elf Prince standing there. "Trellis!" he gasped, his eyes wide with fear. "Have you come to finish me off?"

The stone's power over him has been broken, thought Trellis. His eyes showed no malice as he beheld the pathetic figure. "I have no intention of killing you, Luger," he answered. "Unlike my father, I don't view failure as a capital crime."

Luger visibly relaxed. "Thank heavens for that." Then, indicating the shattered remains on the ground before him, he said, "Look! I destroyed the stone."

Trellis knelt down and inspected the remains for himself, peering closely at them. Noting the lack of chips, buffs and scrape marks, he gave his assessment. "No, it wasn't you that broke the stone; it couldn't have been. It must have been the young Stonekeeper. If it was, then she is the only one other than the king capable of such a feat."

Luger's voice fell. "The king…" Then he became panicked and put his hands to his head in despair. "He'll surely kill us now! He'll have us hung by our entrails and made examples of!"

"He won't get the chance," Trellis said. Luger looked at him. "We're not going back."

"What!" Luger was hysterical. "But we'll be hunted! They'll hunt us down like animals!"

"Like the animals they are," Trellis added, his voice thick with disdain and resentment.

"Trellis, we'll be fugitives. Outlaws. Hunted men. They'll not stop until we're caught and killed!"

Trellis produced his personal communicator, which he used to touch base with his father in Stengard, the elves' capital city. "So be it." An image of the king's masked face swirled into existence, floating before Trellis in a mass of amorphic yellow light. The king was silent for a moment, regarding Trellis with what he knew to be wicked eyes, even though he couldn't see them.

Then the king spoke. "Trellis." If he sounded mean face to face, now he sounded downright sinister. "I hope for your sake that you bring me good news. Did you kill the girl?"

Trellis shook his head. "No. She's more resourceful than we thought; we'll need more time."

Thought his face was hidden by the mask, Trellis could see his father's snarl. "Why must you be so difficult?"

Trellis felt his temper rising, and strove to keep it in check. "Are you so paranoid that you can't recognize a potentially useful ally?" he asked. "Has your fear blinded you?"

The king growled. "Watch your tongue, boy," he warned.

Trellis had been feeling hot resentment toward his father for a long time, and now the strain to keep it under wraps was getting to him. "Surely you can recognize a potential asset."

"She's too dangerous to be left alive."

Trellis snorted. "Then you're even more foolish than I was led to believe."

"You dare insult me?!" Though his face was hidden by the mask, Trellis could feel his angry eyes boring through him. "This was your last chance; you understood this. You've failed me countless times, and you'll fail me again."

"Your mistake was failing to realize that not everything goes according to plan the first time around," Trellis pointed out. "You expect too much; we need more time."

"What makes you think I would give it to you?"

"The fact that we're not coming back until we finish the job. I'll kill the young Stonekeeper myself, and bring you her head."

"You've tested my patience long enough. Come back right away. I mean it."

"No. I'm not leaving the job undone."

"Don't make me track you down again. Return to Stengard immediately."

"You couldn't track anything if you had the nose of a crawler hound. And I'm not coming back until the mission is complete."

The king growled. "Return immediately, Trellis, or suffer the consequences."

Trellis glared back and snarled, "You couldn't care less one way or the other. You'd punish me whether or not I came back."

"Don't defy me, boy. I'm still your father."

But Trellis' eyes showed defiance nonetheless. "No, you're not. Not anymore." Then he let the communicator drop to the ground.

"I'm not warning you again, Tre—"

Trellis stomped on the device, breaking it into a hundred pieces, severing the connection and cutting off the king. "I'm sick of hearing his voice," he said as he stomped on it several more times, then pressed his heel into it and ground it to dust. "He's hardly worth talking to if he won't listen."

Luger looked at Trellis in pure horror. "What have you done?" he demanded. "You've sealed our fates for sure, now!"

Trellis looked at him. "Are you really that naive?" he asked. "He'll kill us whether or not we return. We never meant anything to him; we were just pawns in his stupid chess game. At least we stand a chance of surviving if we stay on the run." He found a ragged blanket and picked it up. "There's a small town just beyond the eastern edge of the forest. We'll hunker down there until we're sufficiently rested, and you need some food."

"But his troops are everywhere," Luger pointed out. "And they're concentrated in the populated areas, including towns. They'll find us easily."

"You need food and water," Trellis argued, draping the blanked over Luger's shoulders.

Luger gazed at the younger elf. "Why are you doing this?" he asked timidly. "Why help me when I'll just slow you down?"

Trellis' face lost its seemingly permanent scowl. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just feel I have to."

Luger glanced at Trellis from the corner of his eye, and saw that there was something there that was nonexistent in the king's eyes. Though exactly what it was, he didn't know. "Thank you," he said as Trellis led him out of the cave and into the sunlight.

Meanwhile, back in Stengard, an elven assassin arrived at the palace gates on the back of his mount, an eaglowl. Eaglowls are large, bipedal birds of prey with a long, sharp, double-hooked beak filled with razor-sharp teeth and eyes that resided in the ends of short, boneless stalks, giving their heads the appearance of a clawknife. The stalks could swivel in any direction, giving the eaglowls unmatched visibility of the area around them. Their feet have four toes, each with a hooked claw that tapers to such a lethal point that an eaglowl can kill its prey before its presence is even made known.

The thunderbird's wings span twenty-five feet and are thickly covered in tough, spongy feathers, which are arranged in such a way and pressed so close together that the air travels right over them, and are covered in an oily secretion to make them waterproof. Special glands at the base of each feather spray a type of gas through them to keep ice from forming when the eaglowl flies at stratospheric altitudes. Trans-parent lids cover its eyes when in flight.

A small deformed elf named Logi met the assassin at the gate. He appeared to be old, but no one could really tell. His eyes were bulbous, his nose was almost flush with his face, his ears were a bit droopier than the common elf, and his teeth were larger than normal. He addressed the assassin. "Master Gabilan," he said. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"The timing of my arrival is hardly consequential," Gabilan said, his voice flat and emotionless.

"May I say that it is such an honor to meet you," Logi added.

"Skip the pleasantries," Gabilan rasped. "Just take me to the king."

Logi bobbed his head. "Yes, of course, right this way." The assassin dismounted and followed Logi into the throne room, where the king sat on his tall marble throne. "Sire," he announced, "Gabilan the assassin has arrived."

"Thank you, Logi," the king said, dismissing the little elf with a slight flick of his hand. "And Gabilan, welcome. I trust you've been informed of your targets?"

Gabilan nodded. "Yes, sire. A young female Stonekeeper and her companions."

"That is not all." The king held out his hand and an image of Emily and Trellis appeared side by side in a flaming orb.

Gabilan was surprised, but years of killing and hard living had taught him to hide his emotions. "Prince Trellis?" he asked, his voice as flat as before. "You wish to have him removed?"

The king clenched his hand into a fist, and the flaming orb vanished. "Despite fair warning," he said, "he has decided to betray me outright. And as we both know…" He leaned forward. "…treason is punishable by death."

"Sire, you ask me to kill your son."

"I'll destroy anyone and anything that impedes our progress, regardless of relation." He leaned back in his throne. "Think of it as a sacrifice for the greater good."

Gabilan flipped his hood back. "Your cause means nothing to me," he said. "I simply require payment."

"Very well," said the king. "Logi waits by the gate with half your fee."

Gabilan's eyes turned a bright gray with surprise. "Half?!"

"The rest will be delivered up completion of your assignment."

Gabilan glowered at the king. "I've never failed to kill my marks," he said very matter-of-fact. "You have no reason to doubt me."

The king chuckled. "Better men have failed, Gabilan."

"Very well, sir," Gabilan reluctantly agreed, turning to leave. "How would you like them disposed of?"

"Free range, Gabilan," the king said. "Use your imagination. Just kill them."

Gabilan went back to the gate, where Logi was waiting with a small wooden box. "Your payment, sir," he said, handing the box to the assassin.

Gabilan took the box and placed in one of his several saddle bags. "Do you enjoy working for your master, Logi?"

Logi's answer was hardly surprising. "It's not about enjoyment, sir, but survival. For my services, he allows me to live."

"A most unfortunate arrangement," Gabilan said. "I promise to offer you a better wage." He climbed onto his thunderbird's back. "When I am king."

The eaglowl cried out with a loud, ear-splitting shriek, then spread its wings and leapt into the air, flapping them to gain altitude and speed to stay airborne, and disappeared into the night.


	2. Chapter 1

Far away in Windsor, two children wandered through the forest with their mother, breaking off branches. Emily, a headstrong twelve-year-old with red hair, led the way. Since finding themselves in the land of Alledia after walking through a door in her great-grandfather's home on Earth two years ago, both she and her ten-year-old brother Navin had been forced to grow up fast, and thus grown strong and confident. The death of their father had left Navin the man of the family; though still very young, his experiences here in this alternate Earth had taught him to be bold and strong—and even violent when necessary.

It was midmorning, and they'd gone out on an errand for Cogsley, the de facto commander of the house they'd been traveling in. "Hey, Emily, will this do?" Karen asked, holding up a branch with a thick tuft of leaves at one end.

Emily turned to look at the indicated branch, took it in and grunted. "Cogsley says he needs the leafiest branches we can find."

"Like this one, Mom," Navin said, pulling on a small branch with a tiny crown of leaves.

Karen looked over, and her face suddenly became hard with concern. "Wait. Is that a cut on your hand?"

Navin looked down at the back of his hand, his eyebrows rising as if he'd only just become aware of the injury. "How'd that happen?" he wondered aloud. "It doesn't hurt."

"Come here. Let me look at it."

"Mom, I'm fine," he protested.

Karen ignored it. "You don't want it getting infected," she told him. "You have to remember, we're on an alien planet. There are all sorts of dangerous things here."

"And there weren't back home?" Navin countered. Karen stared at him, dumbstruck. "Mom, I understand there are dangers here, the same as anywhere else."

"All the more reason to be careful!"

"We need to start heading back," Emily said, heading off the impending argument. "Leon wants to be on the move by midday."

"Why are we leaving the house behind?" asked Navin.

"It makes us too easy to track."

Karen sighed in exasperation. "Why are we always doing what Leon ways?" she demanded. "You know what they say about foxes being tricksters. He might be trouble."

Emily gave her a look of annoyed disbelief. "Weren't you paying any attention when we told you about the ancient curse that makes some of the people here take on the forms of animals?"

Karen's cheeks turned a shade of pink. "Oh…yeah." Leave to a kid to make her feel like an idiot.

"I'm willing to bet that Leon's one of them. If his intention was to make trouble, he'd be making it by now. We can trust him."

They returned to the house, where they found Cogsley on the toe of its left foot yelling down at Miskit. "Cogsley, this is impossible!" the pink rabbit was saying. "There's no way we can hide it like this."

"We have to try, Miskit," retorted Cogsley.

"You don't think a mountain of leafy branches surrounded by stumps would be just a bit suspicious?"

A moment of silence, then Cogsley yelled, "We can't just leave her out in the open!"

"Cogsley's taking this pretty hard," Emily observed.

"Yeah," Miskit sighed. "He built the house with Silas; it's like his baby."

"We'll come back for you, baby!" they heard Cogsley wail.

"He must know this isn't possible," Emily said, then changed the subject. "Where's Leon?"

"Last I knew, he was in Silas' library."

* * *

Emily peered around the corner of the door to the library, watching Leon quietly. The short fox was at the desk, a set of wire-frame glasses on his snout, poring over a thick book and muttering to himself. He flipped back and forth through the pages, making intermittent noises and once almost tearing a page out in frustration. Finally, he tore off his glasses and slammed a fist on the desktop, then glanced up and his cheeks seemed to redden. "Emily."

The girl stepped into the library. "You seem to be having some trouble," she said.

Leon sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I've been searching these books all morning and I still can't find it."

Emily furrowed her brow. "Find what?"

"Our destination," he told her. "My job is to escort you to the city of Cielis. But there's one problem: The city disappeared."

Emily didn't understand this. "Disappeared?"

"Or was destroyed, depending on who you ask," Leon added. "Long ago, the elf army set fire to it. Some say all the citizens were killed. But killing the most powerful Stonekeepers in the world with fire? Ridiculous!"

"Stonekeepers?" Emily asked.

"Powerful and influential figures capable of harnessing the ambient energy that flows through this world. They ruled Alledia before the elf king came to power." He leaned back in his chair, preparing to give Emily a history lesson. "There were five of them. They worked in harmonious unity, and came to be known as the Guardian Council. They were chosen to govern the land, and for many years things went according to their plans, and Alledia benefitted from a century of peace.

"So it came as the rudest of surprises when Gulfen, the elf nation, rose up and began invading its neighbors without warning. What had been a peaceful nation was now a ruthless aggressor. The Guardian Council retaliated, but they severely underestimated the elf king's power. The great city of Cielis suffered the fiercest attack during the war. In a battle for the throne of Alledia, the elves burned most of it to the ground. When the dust cleared, all that remained of the city was a giant crater. Most believe that the people of Cielis perished in the flames, but a few—like the Resistance and myself—believe the city is still intact.

"Some say the Guardian Council lifted the city out of the ground and hid it among the clouds, where they could safely rebuild. Others call the whole story a myth. But we have to believe it to be true, because the survival of Alledia depends on the existence of Cielis and the Guardian Council. They're our last remaining hope."

"Don't listen to him, Emily," a voice interrupted, and they looked up to see Miskit enter the library. "Cielis is dead. Silas said he saw the ruins with his own eyes, and that nobody was spared. You're wasting your time, Redbeard."

Leon directed a challenging look at the pink rabbit. "If that's true, then explain this." He slapped the book Emily had found in her great-grandfather's study back on Earth down on the desk. "These are Silas' notes." Miskit picked up the book and began reading. "If Silas believed Cielis to be gone forever, then why did he spend so much time searching for it? The last notes were taken the week he passed away." Miskit and Emily looked at him, Emily in wonder and Miskit in skepticism. "Unfortunately, he was unable to complete his search."

Emily drew a silent gasp. She remembered her great-grandfather telling her that she could complete what he was unable to. She'd been new to this place then, and had absolutely no idea what he'd meant by that. But now, after hearing Leon's tale and his brief overview of her great-grandfather's notes, she finally understood that finding Cielis was what he'd passed on to her along with the stone.

"If Cielis is still around," Miskit demanded, snapping Emily from her thoughts and challenging Leon's thesis, "then why hasn't the Guardian Council contacted any of us? Why haven't they helped?"

"I don't know," Leon admitted.

"So if they won't come out of hiding to help us now," Miskit continued, "how can we expect them to help us if we find them?"

"Because they will need us." He and Miskit held each other's eyes, both daring the other to continue.

"Ma'am." They all turned toward the voice that broke the tense silence to see Theodore, the little wastebin-shaped robot, standing in the doorway on his single wheel. "The transports are ready."

* * *

Outside, two tracked vehicles sat waiting. The big box robot Bottle and the little vacuum robot Ruby were on top of a mountain of luggage and other necessities heaped in the back of one, while Emily, Navin, Karen, Leon and Miskit climbed into the other. Morrie and Cogsley stood between the transports, going over the final details for their departure, then Cogsley looked up at the house. "At least this thing won't be easy to steal," he grumbled. "I had to gut its engine to fix these transports."

Morrie, ever the worrywart, began sweating. "Are you sure splitting up is a good idea?" he asked. "Maybe we should stick together."

Cogsley shook his head. "No," he said. "Much as I hate to admit it, the fox is right. We need to stay light on our feet. And you need to tell the others what's going on."

"And once that's done, how will we find you?"

"You won't. When the time is right, we'll come find you."

"Let's go, Cogsley," Miskit said over the side of their transport.

As Cogsley climbed in and primed the motor, Emily looked over at the fox next to her. "Leon," she asked, "where are we going?"

Leon looked at her. "A small town just east of here called Nautilus. It's the only place we can charter an airship for Cielis."

"Airship?" Navin sounded excited and more than a little hopeful.

Before any more words could be said, the transport's engine growled to life. "Hold onto your hats!" Cogsley told them, then stomped on the accelerator and they were off.


	3. Chapter 2

They drove for some time in companionable silence, each with their own thoughts of how this might pan out. Miskit and Cogsley were up front, Emily and Leon occupied the middle, and Navin and Karen brought up the rear. The ride would have been nice of not for the deafening growl of the engine and the constant bumps and jerks of the terrain. The wind in their faces was refreshing for only so long before it started to wear on their ears and sound like a wind tunnel.

After a while, Navin leaned forward. "So I like this airship plan," he said, "but how will we get one?"

"We'll hire a captain and crew," Leon said simply.

Emily turned to him. "With what?" she demanded. "We have nothing to offer them."

"But the Guardian Council does," the fox told her. "Once we find Cielis, payment won't be a problem."

They crested a hill, and the little town came into view. "I don't know, Leon," Miskit interjected. "I get the feeling we won't have a lot of takers."

"Nautilus is the shipping capital of Alledia," Leon said. "Most airships dock here at least once a year. Since rising to power, the elves have forced pilots to fly for much less than their work earns. It's unfortunate, to be sure, but one that works to our advantage."

They drove down into town, and found that it was well named. The town was laid out in the spiral of a nautilus shell, and the whole place was done up in a seafaring motif. Buildings were constructed of cheap, rough wood and interspersed with portholes, captain's cabin windows and the hulls of lifeboats. The paint that had been used to color the front of stores and restaurants was faded and peeling. Even the establishments were given names alluding to the ocean, like the Salty Squid Café, Marlin's Curios and Barnacle Bill's Saloon. The air was hazy and thick with the scents of smoke and ash, making it a bit difficult and very unpleasant to breath. Karen was sure some soot was floating around. The streets were made of shallow, sandy dirt, and water from a recent rainstorm had collected in the low spots.

Looking around, Karen got her first glimpse of the curse on Alledia's inhabitants beyond their guide. She could definitely tell that some of them were under it, and from what she could guess, the effects differed from region to region. Though she'd been unconscious in Kanalis, her children had told her of the many different anthropomorphic forms they'd seen: Snakes, lizards, cats and dogs to name a few.

It was no different here in Nautilus. She saw people under the effects of the curse, and some of them had been transformed into the likenesses of marine animals. Most were fish, slugs and turtles, along with a number of eels and even a few sharks. But she also saw other forms, those which were probably not indigenous to the area: A few stallions, several bulls, at least a dozen different canine and feline species, and numerous normal humans. Aside from theirs, very vew grounds vehicles seemed to be here.

They hung a left at one of the forks in town and stopped at a small place one of the side streets. "This is where most pilots tend to congregate," Leon said.

Karen took it in. It was a tiny, rundown place that looked like a coffee shop, and if it was a coffee shop, then it was the seediest coffee shop she'd ever seen. "Is this a bar?" she asked, giving the place a look of distaste. "My children are not going into a bar."

"It's not a bar, Mom," Navin said. "It's a drinking hole."

"You're not going in there," she told him.

"Fine," Leon said. "Navin can stay out here with you, but Emily comes with me." He looked at the robot in the driver's seat. "Cogsley, watch over them." The stone-faced robot nodded.

"Emily!" Karen started.

"It's okay, Mom," she assured her, then followed Leon inside.

Opening the door, they found this to be one of the most disgusting places they'd ever seen. Like everywhere else, the only normal thing was the interaction of people both affected and unaffected by the curse. Robot waiters whirred back and forth taking and delivering orders. There was a bartender. There was even a poker game going on in a back corner. The reeks of unwashed bodies, stale tobacco and fermented drinks mixed together to create a stench so thick that it was like stepping into a completely different layer of air, and so revolting that it took all of Emily's willpower not to lean around a corner and retch her guts into the drain.

Leon turned to her, a look of concern on his face. She tightened her lips, gritted her teeth and swallowed hard, forcing her breakfast back down, then groaned. She closed her eyes, turned to get a gulp of decent air, then looked at him, nodded, and they entered. Leon, she figured, was accustomed to places like this; Miskit, being a robot, was completely unaffected. "So," she said, leaning down close to Leon's ear, "what kind of pilot are we looking for?"

"Anyone willing to take the job," the fox answered. "And it won't be easy." He spotted a fellow that looked halfway decent and went over to him. "Excuse me, sir." The fellow turned to him. He was an older man with white hair, fair skin and pointed ears. His face was strong, square and scarred, and a pair of small round glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. His expression was somewhere between exhausted and annoyed. "We're looking for a captain and crew," the fox said.

"Where are you going?"

Leon hesitated. He knew that most people considered their destination to be little more than a myth, but also knew that he and his friends—and the whole world—were living on borrowed time. He had to chance it. "Cielis," he said.

The old man stared at him for a moment, then laughed harshly. "Ha! You kidding? Get out of my face, brushtail."

Undeterred, Leon approached another pilot. He was also elderly, with a shovel nose and beady eyes, but taller and scrawnier than the other airship captain. "Excuse me, sir," he said, "we need a crew."

The man nodded. "Hauling cargo?"

"People."

"Where to?"

"Cielis."

"Ha! The Flying City! Right. Take a hike. Cielis is dead, pal. Everyone knows that."

Across the room, another patron carrying two mugs of amber ale was discreetly listening in. He was also a curse victim, turned into the likeness of a cat, so his ears were sharp enough to single out the conversation from the general bar room din. And the mention of the long-lost city sparked a fire of recognition. He walked over to a table were another like him, older and stockier with a pipe in his mouth, sat reading the local news bulletin. "Hey Enzo," he said, "those people over there are looking for the Flying City."

"Shut up, Rico," his companion, Enzo, answered in a warning tone, not looking up from his paper. "I know where you're going with this, and for the last time, I'm over it."

"But Enzo," Rico went on, ignoring Enzo's tone, "what if you're right?"

"Did you not hear me, brother?" Enzo demanded, his tone harsher. "I said I'm over it!"

"Excuse me," another voice interrupted, and they looked up to see a fox and a girl standing before them. The fox was clad simply in a loose white shirt, brown vest and trousers, kung fu gauntlets and a red scarf, with a sword over his shoulder. The girl dressed even more simply in a sky-blue tunic, grey trousers and a sage cape. "We're looking for passage to Cielis," the fox said. "Can you help us?"

Enzo looked at them, his eyes hard. He puffed at the pipe in his mouth. "Do you even know what you're asking, friend?" he asked. "It's like asking to be taken to heaven. Most of these dirtbags don't believe it exists, so you're wasting your time."

What he didn't say hadn't missed the fox's notice. "What about you?" he asked. "Do you believe it exists?"

"What I choose to believe is none of your business, just like what you choose to believe is none of my business."

Rico turned to the pair and said, "He doesn't think it exists, he knows it exists."

"Rico!" Enzo snapped.

"Enzo has seen the flying city with his own eyes."

"Can you not shut up!?"

"But it's true!" Rico continued, blatantly ignoring his brother. "He talks about it all the time."

"Crazy old Enzo!" a gruff, elderly voice called out, and they turned to see an old bald man with a waist-length beard waving a cane. And every other patron looking right at the accused like he was a loon. "Seeing ghosts too, I reckon!"

"Shut it, Francie," Enzo snapped back, "or I'll bust your lip!"

"Join us and we can find Cielis together," the fox offered.

"Bah!" Enzo growled in disgust. "I haven't been able to find the Flying City in ten years of searching! What makes you think you'll fare any better?"

"Because we have a map. It's incomplete, but I think it can lead us to the city's location." The fox reached into the bag at his hip and produced a book with an eight-slice pattern on both covers and a pinkish-red oval in the middle. "These are the notes of Silas Charnon," he explained. "He was a Stonekeeper and former member of the Guardian Council. Sadly, he died before he could complete his guide."

Enzo, his interest piqued, picked up the book and began to skim through it, lingering in the sections that seemed more important. He hummed thoughtfully. "It says here that without a Stonekeeper, you won't gain entrance to the city." He closed the book and looked back at Leon. "Seeing as your friend is dead, this book is now useless."

"I can guide us," the girl said.

Enzo looked at her. "You? Who are you?" he asked.

"Emily Hayes," the girl answered. "Silas was my great-grandfather, and I've taken his place…" She fished the necklace from under her shirt. "…as keeper of this stone." Enzo humphed.

"The fate of Alledia rests on her shoulders, and I must ensure she reaches Cielis…whatever the cost." The fox gave Enzo a hard look. "I will give my life to complete this mission."

Enzo was quiet for a long time, his instinct to keep his head down and his reputation intact warring with his desire to find the Flying City and prove every nay-sayer wrong. Finally, he said, "Look, you're asking the wrong cat. I have other clients waiting."

"Please, Captain," Emily pleaded.

"Sorry, kid. It looks like you're in over your head, and I can't help you."

Just then, the door was kicked open and two elf soldiers marched inside. The lead elf drew his sword and grabbed the first person in reach by the head and yelled, "Nobody move! We're here to search the premises on orders from the elf king!" He pulled a sheet of paper from his belt and held it up. "We're looking for these two fugitives."

Behind him, Leon hastily pulled Emily's hood over her head. "Don't show your face," he hissed.

"Anyone found harboring them will be executed!"

"Go file your teeth, shark bait!" a voice shouted, and all heads turned to a pair of ragged rodents. The elf's gaze also turned to them, his eyes deadly. "Some of us may look like rats, but we ain't snitches!" The elf marched into his face and grabbed his throat. "Get your filthy, bloodstained paws off me!" the rat snarled.

The elf raised his sword, holding the tip under the rat's nose. "One more word and I'll slice your tail off!"

Behind him, his companion turned to a hooded figure facing away from him. "Hey you," he said, "turn and face me." The figure didn't move. "Did you hear me?" he demanded. "I said—"

"We found them!" another voice interrupted, and two other soldiers entered, hauling a middle-aged, hunchbacked elf man and a defiant-faced elf boy with them. "They were hiding in the back alley, sleeping under a cart."

The soldier in charge turned to them. "Prince Trellis," he said in a voice that was silk-smooth but laden with malice. "You seem to have lowered your standards. Sleeping in the gutter like so much trash? It's almost impossible to believe!" He leaned in close, gently running the edge of his blade across Trellis' cheek. "You were always the rebellious sort, but I never thought you capable of this. What heinous act of treason have you committed that makes your father order your death?"

"It's simple," Trellis answered, looking up at the soldier. "He's not my father."

The soldier blinked in surprise, then started to laugh. "That's absurd! Not your father? I never took you for a joker, Trellis!"

But the prince's face was completely flat, devoid of any emotion except hate. "That's because I'm not joking." The stone in his chest-plate began to glow. "Your king is dead!" Before the soldier could react, Trellis hit him with a burst of energy that sent him flying over three tables. One of the other soldiers was armed with a staff that collected and returned energy to its point of origin, and Trellis screamed as his own attack was turned against him. He fell to his knees.

"Your father's instructions were to bring you on…dead or alive," the lead soldiers snarled. "So don't force me to take you back in pieces!" The soldiers with the staff fired on Trellis again, and the prince shrieked.

Across the room, Emily and her friends watched. "We have to do something," she said.

"I don't think we'll have to," Miskit answered. "If you just stay quiet, they might leave."

"That's not what I mean, Miskit," Emily clarified. "We have to help them."

Miskit turned to her in alarm. "Help them? Are you crazy!? That's the elf prince, Emily! He tried to kill you, remember?"

"He asked me to help him defeat his father. I just didn't know who his father was."

"Emily, stay put," Leon told her. "Don't jeopardize the mission."

Emily turned to him. "I feel that by not helping him, we are jeopardizing the mission." She looked back at the scene fo torture still unfolding. "Hey!" The elves looked at her, and she tore the hood from her head. "Leave him alone."

The lead soldier laughed. "Look at this, boys! Prince Trellis has a new bodyguard!"

"Don't make me hurt you," Emily warned.

"Ha! Don't make me laugh!"

"Then go home and save our eyes from your ugly mug!"

The elf straightened in indignation, then bared his teeth in a snarl. "You've got some attitude. I think it's time someone taught you some manners!" He charged her.


	4. Chapter 3

Emily's senses went into overdrive and a shot of adrenaline rushed through her system. She watched the elf come, his movements sluggish, but knew better than to trust her perception that the world had suddenly decided to take a day off. He eyes were locked on hers, his teeth were bared in a snarl, and he drew his arm back in preparation to deliver a hit. She'd seen that he unconsciously favored his right side, there-for deducing that he was right-handed, and sidestepped the attack. She felt the rush of displaced air against her cheek as his armored fist whooshed by, and she caught his ankle with her toe as his momentum carried him past.

He stumbled a few steps forward before regaining his balance, then turned to her with a look of rage in his eyes. Emily could clearly see that he was used to being the dominant player, and being thrown off his game wasn't something he took well. Good. The angrier he was, the more mistakes he'd make. His lips drew back and his sharp teeth clenched, and he attempted another attack, this time un uppercut from below. She dodged it by nimbly jumped back, then charged her stone. The elf had only an instant to realize what was happening before he found himself flung backward across the room. He flew over tables and stunned patrons who ducked into their chairs before smashing back-first into the wall.

He groaned as he broke through the shock of what had just happened, and realized what she was. "She's a Stonekeeper!" he shouted. "Walrig, stun her!"

The elf soldier he'd addressed raised his trident-shaped polearm and activated it. Emily brought her staff between herself and the weapon just in time to block the attack. She felt the strain as Walrig maintained his attack, but quickly and easily overpowered it, then swung her staff and wrenched the polearm for Walrig's grasp. The elf was too busy watching his weapon fly away from him to prepare for Emily's counterattack, which sent him flying in the opposite direction. She levitated herself up, saturating her staff in energy, then, glaring venomous daggers at the lead elf soldier, swung it in a wide arc.

"No!"

The noise was deafening, and everyone in sight of The Drinking Hole turned to see its roof explode in a cloud of smoke and wood chips and three elf soldiers. "Emily!" Karen shrieked.

Welcome back, young master, the stone said. I was beginning to think you were going to ignore me for good.

"Captain," Leon said to Enzo, "we're going to need your help. And we don't have much time."

The airship captain shook himself out of his surprise. "Y-yes, of course. Our ship is at the docks."

Leon turned to the pink rabbit. "Miskit, get everyone into the transport."

"Everyone?" she asked, looked at the two elves the soldiers had dragged in. "What about them?"

Leon followed her gaze, and Trellis turned to meet his eyes. In that instant, Leon gained a new understanding that maybe not all elves were the evil, sadistic, power-hungry monsters they'd made themselves out to be. He nodded. "Yes, them too. Now hurry and get everyone outside." Miskit nodded and motioned everyone through the door and toward the transport.

"What happened in there?" Karen demanded.

"Miskit, where's Em?" Navin asked.

"If you're referring to the girl," Enzo answered as Navin pulled him inside, "she's doing fine."

"Hey, guys," Cogsley said slowly, "we've got trouble."

They all turned to see what looked like a metal robot. "What is that thing?" Karen gasped.

"A mechanized armor suit," Cogsley said. "Looks like the elves have brought their heavy artillery."

* * *

The armor suit brought its massive gun-arms to bear, aiming them in the direction of the transport. Through a slit in the chest, a pair of eyes could be seen. The eyes belonged to the driver, who was wearing a helmet with targeting lenses on each side. "This is E-Mek Five, approach-ing the target." He peered through his targeting reticle, lining up his cannons by moving his head. "I have the enemy in sight."

* * *

"Emily, are you okay?" Karen asked as she pulled her daughter into the transport.

"Everybody, get in!" Cogsley ordered. "We have to get moving now!"

Emily flopped into her mother's lap and Leon jumped in beside Navin. "Everyone's in!" the boy cried. "Step on it!"

"Hold on!" Cogsley stomped on the accelerator and they pealed away just as two shots from the armored suit smashed into the wall of The Drinking Hole, consuming it in a cloud of fire, smoke, glass and stone as panicked watchers fled the destruction in every direction. The transport sped down the street, cutting corners and weaving through alleys toward the docks.

"Our ship is at Dock 10!" Enzo said over the rush of wind. The checkpoint guard, another curse victim in the form of a wall-eyed fish, was waving to them from the door of a small square booth. "You have to show your papers at the gate."

"No time," Leon said. "Cogsley, floor it!" Cogsley did, and the engine roared.

"Are you crazy!?" Enzo demanded. "You'll get us all arrested!"

"Heads down!" Cogsley shouted, and slammed the pedal into the floorboard.

Seconds later, they roared past the guard, who watched in shocked dismay as the wooden red-and-white striped crossbar shattered into a hundred pieces. They raced down jetty to Dock Ten, where their ride was moored. "There she is," said Enzo proudly as the approached. "Luna Moth."

To the non-Alledians, it looked like the hulls of two boats attached to the fuselage of an old World War II bomber. Wings stuck straight out from the lower hull, and bulbous engines grew out of them about one-third on their length. A small smokestack poked out of the top behind a flagpole that had a ragged piece of red cloth whipping at its top. A large, midnight-blue rudder at the rear sported the vessel's emblem: A crescent moon encircling a pair of moth wings.

Cogsley looked like the thing he was looking at was the worst insult to engineering he'd ever beheld. "Are you serious? This thing? It's a piece of junk! And it's the smallest ship here!"

"Hey!" Enzo was indignant and more than a little offended. "Don't judge a ship by its sails! Luna Moth might be small, but she's fast and tougher than she looks. She's been through more than you have!"

"Ha! I've repaired junkier pieces than this with worn-our gears and leaky hydraulics. This thing doesn't even look airworthy!"

Enzo's face twisted with anger and he began rolling up his sleeves.

"Enough!" Leon's shout broke up the fight he knew was coming. "In case you've forgotten, we're being pursued. Escape now, settle differences later. Get everyone aboard." Cogsley and Enzo looked at him, then at each other, exchanging one last glare before leading everyone else up the boarding ramp.

No sooner had the all made it on deck than their transport suddenly went up in a plume of flames and smoke. At the entrance end of the jetty was the armor suit, its gun arms smoking. Cogsley, all thought of confrontation with Enzo gone, leaned into the pilothouse. "Get us out of here now!"

Enzo had been working to get them out of there the instant his hands grasped the wheel. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he flipped switches and pushed buttons, trying to prime the engines for startup, but it wasn't easy. In the middle fo the panel was a big red button marked "Emergency Start," but he'd only ever used it once before. Luna Moth was more than a hundred years old, constructed by his great-grandfather with spare parts and salvaged components from junk heaps. This little vessel had more miles on her than he cared to count, been through storms and crash-landings and swarms of angry seabirds. And each time had come out intact enough to be repaired.

But the time he'd used the emergency start had not been a good experience. Though sturdy, Luna Moth wasn't indestructible. The number or repairs and near-complete reconstructions she's gone through had weakened her frame, and the time he'd been forced to use the emergency start had nearly been too much for her. In short, the strain had almost torn Luna Moth apart at the seams. After that, he'd vowed never to use the emergency start unless he absolutely had to.

Judging from the sputtering engines and the walking tank turning toward his beloved airship, he decided this was one of those times. "Hold onto something!" he called out. "This might get a little bumpy!" He flipped open the glass bubble and mashed the big red button.

Instantly, the engines roared to life. The tiny airship shuddered and groaned. Enzo pushed the throttle forward, then gripped the wheel and turned it to starboard. The engines revved up, buzzing like hives of angry hornets, and a moment later the boarding ramp linking Luna Moth to the pier snapped.

The driver of the armor suit fired, and two missiles sped toward the little vessel. But as they approached it, they began to veer away in other directions. He stared in disbelief for a second, then resumed fire.

On the deck, Trellis was using his own stone's energy to redirect the missiles. He didn't particularly care where they went, so long as they went away from Luna Moth. The armor suit's driver kept firing as they fled farther away, but Trellis kept after the incoming fire with measured precision. Some of the redirected rounds narrowly missed other airships that were either coming in to dock or leaving. Others found targets in loading cranes and other dockyard equipment. Karen tackled Emily to the deck just as a chunk of metal dug itself into the side of the ship; had she not… Let's just say that Emily would have joined the Headless Horseman.

One of them detonated in the control box of a loading crane, and the entire arm came loose. Emily saw it and released an immense burst of energy, and Luna Moth sailed through the remaining vapor and dust unharmed. Back on the dock, she saw the suit's driver pop his hatch, lift himself out, then start waving his fist angrily as they moved out of range. She allowed herself a small smile of triumph.

Cogsley poked his head into the pilothouse. "Nice driving, Captain," he said.

Enzo looked at him as if he'd grown antennae. "You think that was skill? There was barely enough room to fly straight, much less maneuver! We're just lucky that guy had terrible aim!"

Out on the deck, Emily was panting hard. Her forehead was slick with sweat and her knees shook. She was beginning to realize that this whole super-duper magic necklace deal wasn't like the science fiction comics and fantasy movies. The power her stone used was drawn from the energy of her own body, her will to resist, her desire to live. And now she felt like an idiot for not thinking that this amazing ability didn't come without cost. What was that old saying? "With great power comes great responsibility." Well, with great responsibility also came great sacrifice. But could she make that sacrifice? She hadn't chosen this–or even had a chance to figure out what was going on before it was all dumped on her head. How could life be so cruel?

The sound of an opening door jerked her back to reality, and she looked over to see the other elf she'd seen with Trellis in the bar. An urgent look was on his face. "Come inside. Quickly." She did and he closed the door.

Karen looked at her daughter. "Emily, this is getting out of hand," she said. "We have to find a way home. If we stay here, we're likely to get seriously hurt, or worse!"

Emily sighed, a sad sound that didn't match the expression on her face. "I told you, Mom: If you go home, I can't go with you."

Karen's jaw dropped in utter disbelief. "What!? Why not? What's holding you back?"

Luger turned to look at the glowing, hovering stone on Emily's necklace. "It's the curse of the Stonekeeper," he said gravely. "The stone won't let you leave, will it?"

Emily shook her head, looking down at the large rosy gem with something like a mix of despair and hatred. "No, it won't."

"A curse?" Karen asked, very clearly alarmed.

Before he could answer, Trellis interrupted. "That's enough, Luger," he said. "Don't talk to them; they already know too much."

Karen looked at him in shock, then anger. "My daughter just saved your life, and this is how you repay her?"

Trellis turned to her. "She should have left us alone."

"Don't mind him," Luger said. "We're grateful for your daughter's assistance."

"Hear that?" Karen said to Trellis. "You should be more like your father." But Trellis just growled and stormed out, ignoring Luger's calls after him, and shut the door. Karen humphed. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that," she told Luger.

"You must understand," the elf said. "He's not my son."

Emily decided to leave them to whatever conversation they wanted to pursue and followed Trellis outside. She found him near the bow, the wind whipping his shredded cape. "Trellis," she said. The elf turned to face her. "You said when we first met that you wanted my help to defeat your father. Why turn against him?"

Trellis eyed her a moment before answering, "It was a mistake to involve you in this. Go back before it's too late."

Emily guessed he meant that she should go back home, but she couldn't if she'd wanted to. Everything she tried simply didn't work. True, she was desperate to get home and hope that all this was just the worst nightmare of her life, but she knew that if she didn't fulfill her great-grandfather's mission and restore the balance of power in Alledia, she'd never get there. As for her involvement in this whole mess, she'd been involved the minute that arachnopod had eaten her mother and brought her here.

It was pretty clear that she was here to see things through to whatever conclusion they came to.

* * *

Failure to carry out the king's orders, regardless of circumstance, was punishable by death. The elf king ruled his empire with an iron fist and had very little patience and less tolerance for those who failed him. Only a scant few had ever been spared the king's wrath–when he was in a good mood or plotting something even more terrible than the original punishment. Ralin and Walrig knew this, and so they were attempting to drown their fears with as much ale as they could consume.

"This might be our last night alive, Walrig, so drink up," Ralin said. His friend already had his mug upside down and was gulping the amber liquid, which foamed around his mouth. The waiter scuttled up, sweating nervously, and Ralin set his own empty mug on the tray. "We need another round, shorty," the elf told him. "And put it on the king's tab."

The waiter's sweat glands went into overdrive. Putting the elf king in debt for anything, even something as insignificant as a mug of ale, would attract his displeasure just as surely as failing his orders. Nevertheless, he hurried to do Ralin's bidding, taking the empty mugs behind the counter and returning a moment later with both of them filled to the brim. Ralin and Walrig snatched them up, the amber liquid splashing over their faces as they turned the mugs up.

Movement drew Ralin's attention to the doorway. "Well, look at what the cat dragged in!" The figure who'd entered was partially concealed by an armored mask and a hooded cloak, but Ralin still recognized him. He was also carrying a case. "What are you doing here, Gabilan?" he demanded.

Gabilan let silence hover between them for half a minute, then said simply in voice as cold as ice, "I'm here because you've failed." He dropped the case in his hand, and it hit the floor with a thump. He knelt down and unclipped the locks, then lifted the lid and pulled out some sort of contraption.

"The king sent you to finish me off?" Ralin asked.

"No," Gabilan told him. "He'll do that himself; I'm only here to collect information." He brought the device to bear, holding it like a weapon. "So tell me, who's helping the fugitives?"

Ralin snarled at him. "Shove off, Gabilan. Your toys don't scare me."

Gabilan looked at him with a warning expression. "Are you sure you want to go down this path?" he asked.

Ralin leaned forward, glaring defiantly. "If I help you find them, you'll get your bounty and we'll be executed for failing the king's orders." He shook his head. "Not a good deal for us. You're on your own here, pal."

Gablian's lips drew back into a feral grin. "You should know by now, Ralin," he said, "that I always have been." He pulled the trigger. The thing's offensive component shot out, its three grabbers opening as it flew toward Ralin and Walrig. Walrig only had enough time to flinch away before it latched onto Ralin's head. The elf let out an offended noise. "This, my friend, in a memory extractor," Gabilan said explanatorily. "It works by tapping into the memory centers of your brain and emptying them. I pull this trigger and I steal all your memories. The effect is near-complete memory loss, and will take years to recover from. During this period of recovery, you'll barely remember who you are.

"I would rather you have an intact mind when the king delivers your punishment, so I'm going to ask again nicely." He released the trigger, which snapped back into firing position. "Who is helping the fugitives?"

By now, Ralin had grabbed the thing on his face and was trying to wrench it off. But for all the sweat on his brow and the nervous tick of his cheek, he still remained defiant. "Like is said, Gabilan: Shove off!"

"Very well." Gabilan pulled the trigger. Energy crackled and Ralin screamed as his memories were forcibly removed from his head. It only lasted a few seconds, but that was all it took for Ralin's memory to be almost completely purged. "Now, let's see what you're hiding in that puny little brain of yours," Gabilan said to himself. There was a screen on the back end of the extractor. The image on it was grainy and greenish, but clear enough to see what Ralin had held until the end. "You." He looked at the waiter and tilted the screen toward him. "Who are these people?"

The waiter cautiously leaned forward to peer at the image. "Captain Enzo Greisen and his brother Rico, sir. They're the crew of the Luna Moth."

"Do you know where they might be headed?"

"I heard them say something about looking for Cielis, but it could have been regular chatter."

"Cielis?" That surprised Gabilan, and added a whole new level of difficulty to his hunt. "I thought it was destroyed."

The waiter was sweating again. "Most believe it was, sir," he said quickly. "But some, like Enzo and Rico, believe it's hidden in the clouds."

Gabilan's eyes were thoughtful. "Cielis was the city of the Stonekeepers, correct?" The waiter nodded. "Then the fugitive scum must be after reinforcements." He reached down and pulled a small pouch from his belt. "For your trouble," he said, tossing it to the waiter, who caught it was a startled yelp and a shaky "thank you." Then he turned and started to walk away.

"Whose side are you one, Gabilan?" Walrig demanded.

Gabilan stopped and tracks and turned his head, peering at Walrig from the corner of his eye. "Come again?"

"You are an elf, aren't you?" Walrig asked. "So why do you do such things to your own kind?"

"My kind?" Gabilan turned to face Walrig fully. "I'm the only one of my kind there is. Good luck with the king." He turned and walked out, leaving a terrified waiter and two elves behind.


	5. Chapter 4

Emily lay in her bed aboard the Luna Moth. On passing observation, she appeared to be sleeping peacefully, but one would find on closer examination that this was not so. Her breathing was fast and shallow, here eyes were clenched and her brow was slick with sweat. From the outside, she was in the midst of a nightmare. The stone on her necklace hovered before her, but she was unaware of it. Her mind was too busy trying to dispel what her imagination had conjured up to notice.

But it wasn't her imagination; it was a warning.

Inside her dream, Emily's eyes snapped out. Before her stood a tree, dry and dead, on a lonely hilltop surrounded by rocks and snow. The sky was a grey mass of boiling clouds that looked ready to release their heavy load at any minute. She also saw her stone, hovering in front of her and gently tugging at the string that held it around her neck. It seemed to want something. "This way, Emily," it said.

She looked ahead, wondering what was going on. Her feet obeyed the stone's gentle insistence, and she let it lead the way. "Who are you?" she asked as she climbed the hill.

"You know who I am," the stone replied.

"Where are we?"

"This is our meeting place," the stone told her.

Emily looked at the tree, and felt a shiver run down her spine. "Not here," she said. "I don't want to meet here."

"Why not?" the stone asked.

"That tree. It brings painful memories."

"Of course. You can make it go away. You have as much control of the scenery as I do." The girl squeezed her eyes shut, and instantly the dreary landscape was replaced with a sunny white-sand beach and rolling waves. Seabirds called and dolphins frolicked in the water some distance offshore. "Ah, how pleasant," the stone commented.

"What do you want from me?" Emily asked.

"Let me show you." Suddenly, a figure of wispy black smoke appeared before her. Its face was a mask with the pattern on the gem, with hair like tentacles of ink. "This way." It made a follow-me gesture with its finger.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To see the future in the eyes of the elf king," the figure said. "To see what may become."

Emily followed it over the rise, then gasped and stopped cold. What she saw was a sprawling metropolis with towers of steel and glass. "This isn't Alledia," she remarked.

"No. It's your homeworld: Earth." It put its hand on her shoulder. "You must know by now that Alledia isn't the only world in danger. He wants you to go home, Emily; perhaps more than you do."

Emily looked at the smoky figure. "Why?"

"Because you can help me stop him."

She looked back at the city. "Then maybe I should go," she said. "It's what I want, too."

"If that were true, than why did you lie to them?" Emily snapped her head toward the figure, her mouth open in shock. "You told them I was forcing you to stay, but you know that you can come and go as you please. Why?"

Emily's mouth worked to retort, but nothing came out. She couldn't understand the point her stone was trying to make. "What do you mean?" she demanded. "The tunnel coming here closed behind us. There is no other way back home."

"There are always other ways, Emily," the stone told her. "To stay here was your choice. It has always been your choice."

The city was suddenly engulfed in a ball of white fire, and the dream dissolved.

Emily's eyes snapped open and she shot upright with a gasp. She felt cold and clammy. Her pajama shirt clung to her shoulders like a sheet of plastic, and her hair was matted to her forehead. After a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart, she became coherent enough to see the amulet floating before her face. Jerkily, she reached out and took the glowing stone in her hand, eyes wide with fear, wondering exactly what the dream portended.

She looked up at the patch of brightening light on the wall, and knew that the sun was rising.

* * *

Enzo stood at the navigation table in the pilothouse, propping himself on his arms as he and Leon Redbeard went over his map of the region. A green mass on the western edge illustrated the continent with its peninsulas and coastal islands, while a featureless expanse of blue showed the Eastern Sea as far as it was charted.

"That's the Golbez Cycle," he said, pointing to a large swirl of spiraling lines. "It's a massive storm system."

Leon studied the illustration. "Can we fly through it?" he asked.

"The _Moth_ wasn't designed to ford such harsh weather," Enzo told him. He paused, then looked at the fox. "Are you certain the city will be there?"

"It has to be," Leon said. "The Cycle is where Silas left off before he passed on, and everything points to the eye of the storm."

Enzo looked hard at the fox. "Do you have any idea what you're asking me to do?" Not waiting for an answer, he continued on. "The Golbez Cycle is hundreds of miles across and has been raging for centuries with no indication of slowing. Nobody even remembers how it started! The winds on the storm's edge are gale-force, averaging eighty miles an hour, and only get faster the deeper in you go. The storm is manageable by certain routes, but the area's a known graveyard for airships. Dozens have been lost trying to navigate it and the wind isn't the only thing to deal with. There are dead airships, lightning, needle-tipped spires and a strange kind of bird that feeds on the gas we use to stay airborne. Most captains, including this one—" he jabbed a thumb at himself "—stay well clear of it whenever possible.

"I can fly you into the storm, but I need to know for certain Cielis will be there waiting for us. The risks are too huge."

"I can't guarantee that Cielis is there, Captain, but this guide is the best lead we've got."

"Another leap of faith, huh?" Enzo said, his tone holding a trace of joviality. "You know I'm still with you on this, Chief." He'd taken to calling the fox that since he seemed to be in command of this whole stunt. "But I'm starting to feel like we're drifting up a creek in a leaky boat without a paddle."

* * *

In the _Moth_'s mess hall, Karen stood as a cutting board, chopping up a carrot into manageable slices for a stew that was bubbling on the stove. A white apron covered her front. She kept her eyes on the vegetable, her right hand steadily feeding it under the blade of the kitchen knife her left hand worked. She hadn't felt this happy since her husband had died that night. It seemed so long ago now, another lifetime on another planet. But she could still recall the event in all its ugly detail.

She shook her head and focused on the tune she was humming. It wouldn't do to let herself get distracted and the stew end up with a finger in it instead of a carrot.

"How are those carrots coming?" Luger asked.

She smiled. Had she known him before, she wouldn't have recognized him now. Or trusted him. Keeping her eyes on her work, she reported, "Almost done."

"Good, good." Luger walked over to the stove, where Rico was stirring a big pot of bubbling liquid. "How's the stew?"

Rico almost jumped. He'd always hoped he might have some other skill besides helping to fly an airship, but his time had always been taken up either by helping his brother keep their little vessel on course or maintaining its engines. This was the first time he'd had the chance to try his hand at something else–anything else, really–and he wanted to get it right. "Uh, well I–that is, it–" he stammered. He managed to stop himself long enough to take a breath. "I don't know. What do you think?"

Luger gave him a pitying look. "Have some confidence in yourself, Rico. And relax a bit; stressing out this much isn't healthy."

Rico took another deep breath, let it out slowly, and gave a small nod. "I think it's coming along okay. I mean, I hope it is." He sighed and looked sheepish. "I'm not exactly what you'd call a gourmet chef."

"This is your first time. Don't expect to get everything right; just try your best."

Rico's face lost some of its tension. "So just keep stirring?"

"Yes, yes. Keep after it. Don't let it burn." After a few minutes, he held out his hand for the ladle, and Rico passed it to him. He gave the brewing concoction one last stir and then lifted it out. After blowing on it, he brought it to his lips and took a tiny sip. He smacked them with a thoughtful expression, then said, "This could definitely use more salt."

* * *

"Okay, runts!" Enzo barked. He stood out on Luna Moth's starboard gangway, glowering down at the boy and two robots in front of him and shouting in a voice that would have done Navin's drill sergeant uncle proud. "Now that you're on my ship, you're gonna play by my rules!" He took the pipe from his mouth and held it in his hand, and Navin's young imagination slapped an image of a cranky British colonel on the sour-faced captain's form. "In order for us to survive up here, you all have to be able to trust each other. You'll work like one big machine, which means you're only as strong as your weakest link." He marched forward a step and shoved his face into Navin's. "Got that, son?"

Navin straightened and barked back, "Yes sir!"

Cogsley turned to face Enzo, his ever-grumpy face as indignant as it could get. "Do you know who you're talking to?" he demanded, and the airship captain turned to him. "This young man is the commander of the Resistance."

Enzo's face tightened and turned slowly back to Navin. "Is that so?" His voice was so low it almost sounded menacing, like he was contemplating wrenching Cogsley apart for insubordination and gutting him for spare parts. His arm shot out and grabbed a stick leaning against the wall and held it out to Navin. "Well, on this ship," he resumed his drill sergeant voice, "he'll be the commander of this broom!"

Navin looked halfway dismayed. Oh great, more chores.

"We'll begin our day by cleaning the ship!" Enzo continued, still shouting. "I want each of you to pick a spot of the deck and scrub it until it's clean enough to eat off of! Hop to it, pork chops!"

On the opposite side of the ship, Leon Redbeard and Emily Hayes stood a few feet apart. The fox regarded the girl how only a mentor could, his expression focused and his gaze intense. "Emily," he said, "you've shown that you're skilled in the use of the stone's magic to attack. But using it only to attack is easy to follow and predict. As your enemies grow stronger and smarter, you'll soon realize that simply attacking them will no longer win battles. You must remember that there are some fights were the ability to attack isn't yours, but your opponent's, and it will be your ability to defend that will mean the different between triumph and defeat."

"Defend?" Emily gave him a slightly confused look.

Leon's expression didn't change. "Your stone's magic is limited only by your imagination. It can be as devastating a weapon as it can be an effective shield. Do you remember what you learned at Demon's Head?" He paused to let Emily think back to what he was talking about, continuing only when she nodded. "The ability to hold things without destroying them. Now we'll take it to the next step." He opened on of the pouches on his belt and pulled out a club-shaped object made of green glass. "I want you to lift this bottle."

Emily focused on the bottle and reached out toward it with her stone's magic. It took a few minutes for her to get the hang of directing the energy rather than just lashing out with it, but eventually she wrapped the magic around the glass container. The thing began to rise.

"Good," Leon said. "Feel the contours of the bottle, how it's shaped and where the best grip is." He watched as she slowly did as she was bidden and the bright pink energy swirled around the bottle, tendrils of magic curling around its curves. "Use the magic to know the bottle, make it a part of yourself." He saw Emily close her eyes, and the magic began to sink into the bottle, weaving through the atoms of the glass. "Excellent. Now, protect it."

Before she could fully process what he'd just said, he drew his sword from the sheath on his back and brought down in a wide down-ward arc to the left. And the bottle was so much shattered glass, tinkling like fairy dust in a Disney movie.

"Hey, no fair!" Emily protested. "That was too fast! I wasn't ready!"

Leon held his sword up so the blade cut his face in half, its edge facing her. "Is that what you'll tell your enemies? That you weren't ready?" he demanded in a voice that shut her up right away. "That's what they'll count on to defeat you, Emily. Your unreadiness will get you killed." She took a deep breath and faced him fully. "Your magic is triggered by your emotions; that can be both good and bad. Good, because the intensity of your emotions lends the stone power, making your strikes stronger. Bad, because your emotions are unpredictable, undisciplined responses to adverse conditions. There will be times when fear, frustration and anger will become strong factors in a fight, and you tend to make mistakes when that happens.

"Frustration narrows your focus to a single point, and you're no longer aware of what's happening around you. Anger has the same effect, but in that you rush blindly. Fear will keep you at a distance and make you hesitate. Your enemies will use all that against you. Defense requires a more calculated approach. You must stay cool and collected at all times." He drew out another bottle. "Now try again."

Emily reached out with her energy and wrapped it around the bottle, feeling its curves and making it a part of herself. After a minute, she lifted it up from Leon's hand. "Okay, I'm ready." She waited for almost half a minute, and when nothing happened, she looked at the fox. "Aren't you going to attack?"

"Overconfidence. Another way to certain death." Emily glared at him, effort and impatience etched on her face. "Most enemies will try to attack when and where you least expect it. You must be aware at all times–even with your guard down–ready to defend from all angles. With practice, your ability to do both will improve, as will your patience." He brought his sword in the same wide arc as before, but in reverse. And as with before, the bottle shattered in half.

Emily half-growled and half-grunted. "Don't let your frustration get to you," Leon told her. "Ready to try again?"

Miskit came up, pushing a broom in front of her. "But what about Miskit?" she asked. "She's—"

"Ignore her." Emily looked at him. "Distraction can be just as lethal as everything else. Work past it." He tossed the bottle in the air. Miskit watched it.

Leon gripped the hilt of his sword, pulled it free of the sheath and swung it in a wide downward arc. Energy suddenly encompassed the bottle and lifted it just before the blade hit it. He stared at it for a second before what had happened registered. He turned and looked at her with a smile on his face. "Emily, you did it!"

Emily was looking at the bottle. "But I didn't do that, Leon."

"Then who—"

"I'm sorry to interrupt." Trellis walked up, still holding the bottle in his magic. "But Luger says it's lunchtime."


	6. Chapter 5

They all retreated into the _Luna Moth_'s mass hall and sat themselves around a long table. Plates and silverware lined the table's outer edges while two loaves of fresh bread, a deep-dish casserole, a large pot of noodle soup, a bowl of potato salad and a sheet of smoked fish adorned the center. Quite an impressive selection for a lunch on a small ship. Food had already been dished up when they arrived, and they set about devouring it the minute they found seats on one of the two long benches.

Rico held a slate-grey bowl out to Cogsley. "Potato salad?"

The robot stared at him levelly and said simply, "I eat oil."

A few minutes passed before Navin piped up. "This is really good," he complimented through a mouthful of casserole and bread. He looked at Luger. "Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

The elf gave him a mournful look back. "Honestly, I can't remember." He sighed. "In fact, there's very little about my life I do recall. And I have no idea why."

Enzo huffed. "What I want to know is why you two are wanted, and who wants you." He gave the two elves a hard look. "You do something we should be worried about?"

Trellis lifted his gaze to the cat. "It's not your concern," he said in a low tone that warned all not to ask about it.

But Enzo simply ignored it, and returned the young man's level stare. "Everything on this ship is my business," he told him. "Now, what did you do to get on your daddy's bad side?"

Trellis' lips pursed, and his eyelid twitched in an attempt to form a snarl. But he quashed it before it got very far. "He is not my father," he said in that same low voice. "Not is he what you think he is." He stood and started to walk away.

"Trellis, you didn't finish your food," Luger said, but Trellis ignored him.

"Just leave him be," Karen said in a sympathetic tone. "They get like that at this age."

Emily watched him go, an expression of worried curiosity on her face.

* * *

About an hour later, Emily and Leon were back on the deck. Emily held another bottle in her magic, weaving it up and down and left and right in an effort to evade the swinging arcs of Leon's longsword. She was concentrating on simply keeping the oblong glass object from falling prey to the weapon's blade like the previous dozen had, and she was finally starting to get the hang of it. A small part of her mind registered some situational humor in how the old adage of "the lucky dozen" seemed to be coming true, and the right side of her mouth quirked up just enough to be noticed.

Leon feigned a right uppercut and tricked Emily into maneuvering the bottle to evade the strike before bringing his sword into position for a downward left slice so quickly that Emily was barely able to move the bottle with and away from the swing. The blade tapped the bottle's bottom with a sound surprisingly light for the force and sent the thing spinning wildly. Leon made no effort to strike again. "Nice work, Emily," he said in praise of her efforts.

Emily was panting hard, and her face showed the toll her efforts at evasion had taken. "This wears me out faster than offensive magic," she half-complained.

"You'll get used to it," the fox assured her. "You think I was very good at swordplay when I first started?" She grinned and he shook his head. "Don't worry. With practice, anything can become second nature."

At the same time, Navin was pushing a shop broom in front of him along the deck. The bristles were frayed and beginning to lose their stiffness from years of use, but still performed their function. He'd picked up where he'd left off when they went in for lunch, which was somewhere amidships. The going wasn't fast, but neither was it slow, and before too long he was approaching the pilothouse.

As he came up to the open-frame door, he began to hear something over the noise of the engines and wind that sounded like snoring. Looking inside, he saw Captain Enzo leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the control console, arms crossed, cap pulled low over his eyes and mustache quivering with every rumbling inhale. "Hey!"

His indignant bark startled Enzo from his nap and threw off his precarious balance. The cat's arms shot out and his hands snatched for the edge of the console, but failed to catch and his arms wind milled in an attempt to restore balance. A second later, his chair's legs came back down to the deck. He panted as realization that he was safe and steady again set in, then took a deep breath to calm his heart. He glanced in Navin's direction, and an expression much like that of a child caught in the act of raiding the cookie jar crossed his face.

It disappeared an instant later, but the look on Navin's face made it clear he hadn't missed it. "Whatever happened to, 'only as strong as our weakest link'?"

A shadow of Enzo's previous expression returned. "Stop giving me a hard time, kid," he said. "I was just making sure this hat was clean."

"Right." The tone of Navin's voice indicated that he didn't believe Enzo for a minute, but also that his attention was going elsewhere. "So this is the autopilot?" he asked, looking at the small robot at the wheel. The thing turned its long, one-eyed head in his direction and meeped twice at him. Navin almost laughed at how much it sounded like the Road Runner cartoon character.

Enzo nodded. "Yeah. Samson cost me an arm and a leg, but he's worth it." He patted the spindly robot's head. "Traded enough parts to build a whole new engine to get him."

Navin made a sound of understanding. He didn't know a whole lot about trade and barter, but he understood enough to know what it meant to give up something that must be difficult to procure for something you wanted. He looked at the wheel. "Can I try flying the ship?" he asked, then added, "I've flown a plane before."

Enzo shook his head. "No way, kid. This is a complicated piece of machinery." He indicated the autopilot with his hand. "Samson here is highly trained."

Navin actually laughed at the thought of a robot learning to do anything other than what it was programmed to do—the robot Enzo called Samson looked like it was only an autopilot, all in all a fairly simple program—but his laughter died almost as soon as it started when he thought of Cogsley, Morrie and Miskit, the most intelligent robots from his great-grandfather's mobile house. All three of them had the ability to learn, think, reason, express emotions and opinions and exhibit personality. That made them as capable and independent as any human. He sobered. "It doesn't look very hard," he observed.

Enzo sighed, half in exasperation and half in annoyance. "Look, kid, you don't belong up here," he said bluntly. "But if you do a good job cleaning, I'll consider letting you steer for a few minutes." His expression softened, and he almost smiled. "Now get back there and–"

The look that suddenly crossed Navin's face interrupted him. "What was that?" the boy asked, his eyes wide.

Enzo leaned out the far door and saw a long, slender shape against the blue expanse. It was brownish-red and looked something like a snake, one with hind limbs and two large wings. He growled and looked at Navin. "Tell everyone to get inside."

"What is it?" Navin asked.

"Wyverns."

"What are wyverns?"

"Just do as I say!" Enzo snapped.

Navin jumped into action and ran toward the ship's stern, where his mother was hanging clothes. "Hey, Mom, the captain says to get inside."

"Hold on, Navin," Karen said, pulling a sheet from the clothesline. "I'm almost done."

"Mom, I think it's serious."

"What's the matter?"

"It's an earwig or something. Some kind of flying lizard. Whatever it is, it's huge."

In the ship's library, Miskit sat across from Emily, who was reading a book. She turned toward the porthole at her right just a second before a winged serpentine figure flashed by. "Did you see that?" she asked.

Emily looked up. "See what?" Just then, the warning bell began to ring. She set her book down. "Something's wrong."

"Everybody inside!" Enzo hollered.

Karen yanked a white sheet from the clothesline. "Okay, that's the last one." Greenish-blue magic, so light it was almost white, came around her arms. "What the—" The magic lifted her off the deck. "Emily?!"

"Mom!" Emily saw where the energy was coming from. Trellis was frowning in concentration, but in the heat of the moment, Emily perceived it as a threatening snarl. "Let go of her!" She lashed out at the elf prince, forcing him to release his grip on her mother and sending him skidding across the deck to the superstructure. She stomped up to him and demanded, "What were you doing?"

"Trying to protect her!" Trellis answered.

This surprised Emily. She'd been ready to accept that he no longer wanted to harm her, but not trust him with her family. "Protect her from what?"

Trellis pointed behind her. "That."

Emily turned and came face to face with a serpentine creature. It had a triangular head with high-set eyes and jaws filled with jagged teeth. Two small ears were set behind the eyes, and a row of bony bumps ran along its spine from snout to tailtip. Dull yellow stripes ran down its side, and its two wings' edges were tattered. The animal was gripping the side rail with its four clawed feet. It shrieked at them aggressively, then flapped its wings hard and pulled on the railing.

Karen and Navin ran to the door. "Hurry! Get inside!" Miskit urged. Luger peered out of a nearby porthole.

A look of aggressive determination crossed Emily's face. "We can kill it," she said.

"Wyverns are like wolves," Trellis told her. "They travel in packs, but rarely attack alone."

In the library, Enzo clicked open a case and pulled out a blocky weapon. It had a power charge readout on the butt and a cylindrical attachment on the front. "It's been a while since the last wyvern attack, Enzo," Rico said. "What if the stunner doesn't work any more?"

Enzo twisted the cylinder and the weapon whirred and hummed. "Unfortunately," he said, looking at his brother, "we don't have any other options."

Emily watched six wyverns wing by. "What are they after?" she asked.

"They're hunting," Enzo answered. "They they're not usually this aggressive." He brought the weapon to his cheek. "Whatever they want, we better let them know to look elsewhere!" He pulled the trigger, and the stunner coughed out a cloud of dust and two moths. He look-ed at it in dismay.

"I don't think those toys are going to do it, Captain," Trellis said.

Before anything else could happen, one of the wyverns swooped in from starboard, landed on the wing and then sank its teeth into the engine and wrenched a piece from the housing. Momentarily satisfied with its prize, it flew off. Sparks spat from the gaping wound in the ship.

"If that engine goes down, we'll be going around in circles," Cogsley said. He held out an end of rope to Miskit. "Here, tie this around your waist."

Miskit took it. "What are you doing?"

"Going out there to fix it."

Up in the pilothouse, Enzo was manipulating the flight controls furiously in an effort to outmaneuver the wyverns but knowing he never could. "We've got to get out of these clouds."

"Why?" Navin asked. "Couldn't we hide in them?"

Lines of concentration etched the corners of Enzo's mouth. "Cover works both ways, kid," he said as patiently as he could. "Besides, these are thunderheads—doubly dangerous for the chance of being struck and the fact that the wyverns like to fly through them." Suddenly, a red light began flashing, the angry pulsing accompanied by a consistent buzzing beep. The needle in the gauge below it began to drop.

"What's wrong?" Navin asked.

"It's our starboard engine," the cat answered. He leaned out of the right-side doorway and looked back. The engine was sputtering and smoking and spitting sparks. Then he saw Cogsley out on the deck and looking intently at the damaged powerplant. "What are you doing?"

The robot turned his head toward him. "I'm going out to fix it."

"You're going to get yourself killed! Wyverns are swarming out there!"

"Then you'll need to cover me."

Cogsley's utter calmness surprised Enzo, but addressing the matter of cover was a more immediate problem. "Unfortunately, these stunners don't have enough juice to be any use."

"I'll back you up," Trellis declared.

"No." Emily objected immediately. "I will. They're my friends; I'll protect them."

"Emily, I'm better at defending than you are."

"I'm not leaving their lives in the hands of strangers. Just help me keep the wyverns away."

Trellis, aware there was no time to argue, sighed in temporary defeat. "Fine. I'll position myself at the ship's bow. Call for me if you need help."

Cogsley began to climb over the railing. "You'll get blown off the wing!" Enzo yelled.

"Won't worry, Captain," Miskit assured him. "Cogsley can magnetize his feet."

Emily sent out a tendril of energy and wrapped it around the robot. "I've got you covered, Cogsley!" she called.

Cogsley stopped and set down his toolbox, looking into the gaping wound in the engine housing. He looked back and raised a thumb. "I can fix this!" he confirmed.

Leon looked forward. "Look out! We've got company!" A wyvern was swooping in from above and closing fast. The creature reached out, thinking Cogsley would make a good snack, but jerked back when the bright red aura surrounding him zapped its claws. "Good work, Emily!"

Trellis looked toward the bow and saw several wyverns closing in. "Here they come!" he called.

Out on the wing, Cogsley was working furiously to patch up the sparking wound. "Almost there!"

The flicker in the energy feeding the shield around Cogsley flickered so briefly that Leon almost didn't see it. He turned to look at Emily and saw sweat beading on her face. "Your attention is faltering, Emily. Stay focused!"

Trellis lashed out at an approaching wyvern and struck it in the side, making it scream in pain and rage. But even as he diverted that one, another was descending on Cogsley. The robot yanked on his wrench, reconnected the ignition wire, and the engine coughed once before roaring back to life. "Done!" Moving as fast as his magnetized feet would allow, he went back to the gangway.

"Welcome back," Miskit said.

The girl panted hard. "Nice job, Emily," Leon congratulated her. She looked at him and gave a small smile.

In the pilothouse, the pulsing red light stopping blinking, the warning buzzer fell silent and the lowering gauge jumped back to the highest point it could go. "We're back at full power!" Enzo smashed the throttle pedal into the floor, revving the engines and increasing speed.

"Everybody, get inside!" Karen yelled. "Hurry!" She approached her daughter. "Are you all right? You're soaked!"

"I'm fine, Mom," Emily answered, still panting.

The next thing any of them knew, two clawed feet clamped down on Miskit's shoulders and lifted her from the deck. "Help!" she cried out in panic. Before anyone could do anything, the rope still linking Miskit and Cogsley snapped taught. Split-second reaction saved him from immediately being pulled away, and he braced his feet against the railing, but the wyvern proved too strong for the metal and the bar snapped, and Cogsley was pulled after Miskit and her captor.

"Cogsley! Miskit! No!" Emily dashed after them.

"Emily, no!" She ignored them and vaulted off the ship, intending to use her magic to pursue them, but the energy fizzled out and she fell toward the earth far below. She fell for several seconds before an arm of bright aqua magic wrapped around her, stopping her descent, and she shouted in frustration and rage at the retreating form of the wyvern, Cogsley little more than a speck dangling beneath it.

She was lifted back to the deck. "Emily!" Karen ran up and took her into a hug. "Are you okay? What were you thinking?"

Looking half angry and half disappointed, Emily said, "We have to go back! We can't leave them!" She ran up to the pilothouse. "Stop the ship! We have to turn around!"

Enzo's head snapped toward her. "Are you crazy? We have to get out of these clouds before the wyverns tears us apart!"

"But we lost Miskit and Cogsley!"

His face lit up in surprise. "What!?"

"A wyvern took them."

Enzo sighed, half in resignation and half in despair. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do." Emily started to protest, but he stopped her. "They're too fast for this ship. Even if we chased after them and threw the throttle wide open, we'd never catch them. I'm sorry."

"No." Emily turned and ran out of the pilothouse. "Leon! You have to convince them to turn around!"

Leon's shoulders slumped and he sighed heavily. "I'm afraid the captain's right, Emily. Pursuit would be hopeless."

"But we can't just leave them behind!"

"Emily, their job was to protect you, not the other way around. Putting you in harm's way to save them is the last thing Silas would want." Emily's lower lip began to tremble. "It's not your fault."

She looked at him, her eyes glinting angrily. "You know that's not true." She turned on her heel and stormed away.

Rico looked at the fuel gauge. "We'll need to gas up soon, Enzo. We also need to repair the engine." Enzo sighed heavily. "What's the matter?"

"There's only one service station on this route—and I was hoping we could avoid a pit stop."

Fearful suspicion blossomed on Rico's face. "Uh-oh. Are we where I think we are?"

Enzo nodded gravely. "She's the only one out here, Rico. Let's just hope old wounds heal fast."

None of them were aware that a large bird-like creature with a gleaming metal helmet and a rider on its back was following them.


	7. Chapter 6

Enzo felt trepidation coursing through him as the _Luna Moth_ approached the service station, which was made up of two dozen structures built into a group of lonely rock spires about two hundred miles off the coast. A few isolated buildings were on the surrounding spires, most likely to provide weather watch and lookout; the main complex was set in a spire that leaned precariously to one side depending on which angle it was seen from and easy to spot because of the three jetties protruding from the sides of the freestanding stone pillar. As they approached, signs denoting various locations in the station came into view.

There was Earl's Repair Shop. Arenar Grill and Lounge. Swinging Hammock Inn. Deep Sea Sushi Bar. Whale Tale Café. Then there was the sign that identified the entire place. Crafted from rough coral and sporting reflective paint and luminescent lights, it stood on the roof of the largest building in bold letters: Selina's.

They descended toward the lowest jetty and two figures came into view. One was a cat like Enzo, but pure white and quite female, and the other was a robot. Enzo killed the engines and let the momentum carry them in, then he and Rico stepped out onto the foredeck. "She's not going to like this, Enzo," Rico said quietly.

Enzo heaved a growling sigh. "Tell me something I don't know, Rico," he answered. "I'm not going to like this any more than she will."

As the white female cat watched the ship dock, the robot behind her leaned close and said, "Don't do anything foolish." She growled as the ship's captain descended the boarding ramp.

"Hey, Sel!" Enzo called, moving with much more excitement than he felt. She offered no greeting in return–in fact, her scowl seemed to deepen as he stepped up to her. "You look good!" He never saw the blow coming. One minute he was a step away from her, hoping she'd only squeeze his paw too hard when he offered it to shake, and the next his face was sideways and he was on his tail.

"What are you doing here, Enzo?" she demanded, sounding not at all happy.

He rubbed at his assaulted cheek and looked up at her. "I just need some fuel and repairs, Selina. Then I'll be out of your hair."

She glared down at him. "I thought you'd stopped flying this route long ago."

"I did."

Navin and Leon came rushing down the ramp. "Are you okay, Captain?" Navin asked.

Enzo placed his hat on his head. "I'm fine. I'd like you all to meet someone." He gestured toward the white cat. "Everyone, this is Selina Figgins, the owner of this station."

Selina scoffed. "Are you still chasing after that stupid flying city?"

"For your information, these good people have asked me to take them there."

In the small crowd of onlookers, Rico said quietly, "These two have a bit of a history."

"You have no idea where it is, Enzo," Selina said. "Do these people know just how lost you are?"

"Selina, please. Just fuel up the Moth and we'll be on our way."

She humphed and turned to her robot assistant. "Tell the boys to make this ship their priority."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You and your friends can stay the night," she said to Enzo, "but I want you out of here in the morning."

"You have my word," he promised.

"And don't ever come back here."

Emily was last to come off the ship. Wind whipped through her red hair, and she looked in the direction it was coming from and saw a dark, angry storm about an hour from the station. A gray haze below the boiling clouds signified heavy rain, and jagged bolts of blue foretold of a wild electrical storm. She knew that the wind now playing across her face was the precursor of much more violent turbulence, and that they would be heading into that maelstrom tomorrow. A determined frown brought her eyebrows together; she had plans to make.

* * *

An hour later, everyone was seated in the main lobby, sipping at soup and munching on fresh buns. The space was a comfortable size—neither emptily spacious nor claustrophobically cramped—longer than it was wide and furnished with ten round tables with half as many chairs around each. There were cases of books built into one wall between the windows and a long bar counter with several stools along the other side. The sun had been setting by the time they'd arrived at the station almost two hours ago, and as the light had dimmed it tinged everything with a dull orange hue. The color was warm and inviting, and would have even been relaxing if not for the worry pervading the air.

Navin was stuck in that pit along with most of the Moth's crew. He slowly stirred the soup in the bowl before with his spoon, staring with dull eyes into the thick liquid. Karen both saw and felt his distress. "Don't worry, Navin. I'm sure they're okay," she said, attempting to comfort and distract him. "They seem very capable, and I'm sure they weren't eaten." His head twitched in her direction, but his expression didn't change. "This is like when you lose one of your toys: They'll turn up again eventually."

Navin sighed heavily and shook his head in disagreement. "I don't know, Mom," he answered. "I don't think this is like that at all."

Behind them, Leon and Enzo were locked in heated conversation. "We can't invite trouble like this, Enzo," the fox said, tapping the tip of his finger hard against the top of the table. "You should have warned us."

Enzo stared levelly back at him. "Hey, I was trying to avoid this place," he said defensively, then drew himself up. "And if it's Selina you're worried about, don't sweat it. She may hate my guts, but she won't sell us out to the elves. She's trustworthy."

"I don't care about her trustworthiness," Leon hissed, thumping a fist on the table. "We just have to make sure that we don't attract unwanted attention." He clenched his fist tighter. "One false move can jeopardize our entire mission."

Two tables away, a hooded figure sat with his back to the talkers, slurping at the drink in his hand while listening in on the discussion. All the others would see was someone who wanted some time alone, and whose hooded cloak was his way of separating himself from the world around him.

* * *

Trellis climbed a staircase that spiraled upward. He'd noticed that Emily had walked right on through the lobby while everyone else had taken seats and been served soup and bread. After downing his own portion of the food, he slipped out through a back door, found the staircase and started climbing. It came out onto a small flat area, and near the edge of it was Emily, her fiery hair and autumn cloak billowing in the wind. Her back was to him, but he knew she would sense his eyes on her. "What do you want, Trellis?" she demanded.

"You should have let me help you," he said flatly.

"I don't want you near my family."

"You don't trust me."

She turned her head around to look at him. "I get the impression that the feeling is mutual."

Trellis nodded curtly. "Fair enough. But the next time I try to help, I suggest you stay out of my way. For your sake."

Emily watched him turn and start to walk away, then said, "Wait. You never answered my question." Trellis stopped. "Why turn against your father?"

A moment of silence, then, "It's a private matter."

She scoffed. "If you want me to trust you, you need to start trusting me." He turned buck to face her. "And you can start by telling me why you need my help to take down your dad." Trellis stood there, silently staring at her, his face as unreadable as ever. The only outward indications of any sort of deliberation were some minute twitches in his cheek, just below the eye. Finally, he sighed in resignation and sat down on a rock a few feet away from her.

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers. And for the first time, despite the frown seemingly frozen on his face, his attitude radiated a sense of hopelessness. "On Gondoa Mountain, the day we met," he finally began. "The arachnopod carrying your mother was supposed to find its way back to him, but I stopped it. You know this, of course; you were there. You saw me tear it in half. Then I told you that you could help me stop the elf king."

Emily scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You certainly did that well."

"What I'd done was seen as an act of treason. My father was looking for a young Stonekeeper to take my place as his successor, and I wanted to stop him. I thought I could use you against him—if I couldn't convince you to help me, then I'd resort to force, but I failed on both counts."

Emily looked at him, incredulous. "He wanted me to succeed him?"

Trellis nodded. "Being jealous, I assumed that was his wish. But the truth was far more sinister." He hung is head slightly and closed his eyes. "For the past several years, I've had trouble remembering things–things one doesn't easily forget. Much of my childhood and early life is lost to me, and I suspected that my father had something to do with it. Strangely enough, one of the few remaining images in my head was that of my father's face. It was the only thing I saw clearly, as if I'd decided it was the only memory worth keeping. I wanted to see him again, to catch a glimpse of his face behind the mask, in hopes that it would help bring back more memories.

"Under the cover of night, I snuck into his tower bedchamber, and what I saw will haunt me as long as I live. Behind the mask was my father's face, just as I remembered it. But just as my memory was frozen in time, the face before me was also frozen. Something was wrong. His features were gaunt and gray, his skin the color of stone. His eyes were glazed over with a milky white substance, with nothing but a cold emptiness behind them. I was so shocked that it took a moment for what I was seeing to connect, but when it did, I wished it hadn't. Realization of the truth made it no easier to accept, but I had to at least acknowledge it: My father was dead.

"The elf king is nothing more than a walking corpse, and whatever lives inside it now killed my father. I want to destroy it before it doesn't any more harm to my homeland."

Emily's mind spun. Trellis's description of the thing that had been his father was frighteningly similar to a zombie, a monster that was used in horror and thriller media and often depicted as a reanimated dead body at some stage of decay that moved slowly, had minimal sense of direction or higher brain function and was possessed of an inexplicable drive to seek out the living. But if the monster he'd described was in fact a zombie, then it must be a very special kind of zombie. For what she could piece together, the zombie that had once been his father had the ability to reason and form coherent thoughts. Finally, she asked, "But if he's dead, how can we defeat him? How can he even be harmed for that matter?"

"Destroy the stone." Emily and Trellis turned to see Luger standing behind them. He looked as frail and timid as he had the first time Emily had seen him. "A Stonekeeper provides both focus and balance for the stone's power," he explained. "A stone is as alive as its keeper, and no stone has ever been known to survive without one. But this stone has found a way to reanimate its dead master, using the darkest kind of magic there is. And it's likely that the king wasn't the first victim." He looked between Trellis and Emily, his eyes seeming to linger more on Emily. "You will need to work together to defeat the stone. You can't and won't succeed if you try to do it alone."

Trellis stood. "Go back inside before you get sick," he said, gently guiding Luger back toward the inn.

Emily also stood. "Why me, Trellis?" she asked. "Why do you need my help?"

Trellis paused and looked back at her. "Because my stone told me it had to be you," he said simply. Then he turned and walked with Luger back to the inn, and Emily watched them as the sun slowly sank below the crimson sea.

* * *

Several hours later, Emily woke in sweat. The stone had sent her another message, and like last time it was terrifying. She moaned before finally sitting up. The stone was floating before her in its bright red aura, and she stared at it in curious exhaustion. She was so tired; all she wanted was to sleep, but the stone seemed to think that what it had to tell was more important than rest. And as comprehension of its latest contact dawned on her, she knew that sleep wouldn't come now.

She looked over at Navin, who was sleeping so deeply that he snored uproariously. She giggled silently—he'd apparently inherited their father's dark tendency to snore like a tiny earthquake when he slept. But her mirth died almost as quickly as it was born as the distraction lost its effect and the stone message again took precedence in her mind. She swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood up then walked out as quietly as she could and into the main room.

She heard more snoring coming from somewhere near the fireplace, and as she drew closer to the source she realized it was coming from the couch. As she came around it, she saw Enzo and Selina slumped on it, both out like a light. A bottle of wine and two glasses were on the coffee table in front of them. They were side by side, which surprised her because when the Moth had docked and he stepped out onto the jetty, she'd looked ready to tear him a new one, then let out with a wicked right hook that caught him square on the cheek and demanded what he was doing here. His explanation hadn't done a lot to sooth her anger, but seemed to have calmed her enough to keep her from attack-ing him outright.

She wondered if this was a normal thing for them. And if so, what had caused the amnesty between them? She could only guess, but her mind was on other things as she took a seat by the fire and stared into the flames, trying to puzzle out what the stone was telling her. The thing seemed to have developed a fondness for riddles, and everything it told her sounded as twisted as a wrought-iron fence.

"Having trouble sleeping?" She recognized the voice immediately and looked back. Karen approached, a concerned expression on her face. "I noticed you weren't in bed. Can I join you?"

Emily turned back to look at the fire again. "You should be sleeping, Mom," she said nonchalantly. "We have a long day tomorrow."

Karen chuckled. "Don't worry about me. When you and Navin were little, I got used to operating without sleep. I'll manage." She sat down in the chair next to Emily's. "Now tell me why we're both still awake."

Emily took the stone around her neck in her thumb and forefinger, looking at it with a mixture of exhaustion, exasperation and maybe a little bit of anger. "I just had a bad dream," she said thoughtfully. "Except I'm not sure that it was just a dream."

"I know exactly what you mean." Emily's head snapped up in surprise, and Karen nodded. "When your father died, I felt pretty much like you do now. I was so broken up and had so much weight on my shoulders that I almost broke down completely. Without his support, I didn't know what to do. I felt so alone. But when I looked at your faces, I realized I had to stop feeling sorry for myself and focus on taking care of you, and I couldn't do that if I stayed in the emotional pit I'd fallen into. So I trusted myself to pull things together and figure them out. And my worries vanished.

"If you can find the confidence to trust yourself, you can make it through just about any situation, no matter how bad things might seem. Now stop worrying so much; you're wasting your time and wearing me out." She saw Emily smile a little, and held out a hand. "Come here."

Emily went over and laid her head on her mother's shoulder. "You're not worried?" she asked.

Karen chuckled. "I'm your mother, sweetie. I make a career out of worrying about you."

* * *

Enzo and Selina stood out on the jetty, looking at the tiny ship silhouetted against the predawn light. The sun was just beginning to rise and the sky was still dark, but that would change quickly. Selina nudged Enzo with her elbow. "You're getting old, Enzo. You know that, right? It's time you start thinking about settling down."

Enzo scoffed lightly. "I've still got a few years on me yet, and I intend to you them to realize my dreams."

"Someday, you'll have to stop chasing rainbows and think about what future you've got left."

"This isn't a rainbow, Sel–not this time. I'm closer than I've ever been to finding Cielis, and I have my passenger to thank for it."

Selina gave him a small smile. "Look, just remember when you decide to settle down that there'll be a job for you here at the station."

He returned her smile. "Thanks for the offer, Sel, but I plan to settle down in a city high above the clouds." They shared a last hug— something they rarely did anymore—then he began to climb the boarding ramp. He glanced back and said, "I'll send you a postcard." She smiled. He went into the pilothouse, started the engines and throttled away from the jetty. In minutes, the station was only a dark column on the horizon.

Leon looked up from the map he was studying. "If we travel through the lighter areas of the storm, we may be able to see Cielis from afar."

Enzo kept his eyes on the rising sun. "I'll take us all the way in."

"We're still don't know that Cielis is there."

"There's really only one way to find out. We better let the others know to buckle up."

Emily stood on the prow of the little ship, staring straight ahead at the massive storm into which they were flying with a determined look in her eyes as if daring the cyclone to challenge them. "Enzo says we're heading in," she heard Rico announce. "He wants everyone to sit down and secure themselves."

"Go find a seat, Navin. Emily, come on in."

"How exciting," Luger said.

* * *

Barely an hour later, the storm was raging so fiercely that even through the wind's furious howling the tiny ship's crew could hear the flag above them snapping like a whip. Rain fell in sheets that were driven nearly horizontal by the wind. Enzo stood at the helm, the wheel grasped firmly in his paws against the wind sheer that threatened to tear it from them. Leon sat behind him at the navigator's table, studying something in Silas Charnon's old thick journal. As he flipped through the pages, skimming over them and absorbing relevant bits of information, one diagram appeared that was particularly interesting.

"I don't think we're the only ones out here," Enzo commented.

Navin glanced out the viewport and gasped. Outside the ship he saw an enormous serpentine creature slowly fly past, its body move-ments identical to the aquatic snakes and eels he'd seen on TV and in aquariums back home. On the side of its head that was facing him he saw three eyes—one big and two small—glowing a brilliant bright blue. Several fins were arranged along its length and massive teeth jutted out from its mouth. Then another flew up alongside it. "What are they?" he asked in a mystified tone.

"Sky eels," Luger answered.

"Are they dangerous?"

"No. Sky eels are docile creatures and among the oldest living animals in the world." Luger pointed to one. "That eels right there is probably older than your entire recorded history." He placed his hand against the cold glass of the viewport. "Can you imagine all the things it must have seen in its lifetime? The trove of knowledge it must possess?" He sighed sadly. "I can't even recall the days of my youth."

"That's okay," Navin said cheerfully, trying to console him. "Old people forget things all the time."

On the rear deck of the ship, a lone figure sat, his knees pulled into his chest and his cloak wrapped tightly around them, a lost look in his eyes—as if he too could not remember something.

The tiny ship continued on, bravely facing everything the storm threw at it and stubbornly refusing to give in. Strangely, the monsoon was actually seeming to get angrier the farther in it went, almost as if the little vessel's staunch refusal to be defeated was taunting it. But the storm hadn't run out of challenges for them, and its latest effort started to grow on the handrails and from the overhead cover of the gangway. "Enzo!" Rico shouted. "We've got ice!"

"We'll have to deice the wings before the weight and wind sheer tear them off. Rico, help me. Samson, take over." Enzo looked at Navin. "Hey, kid. Just watch and learn." Samson meeped after him as he ran out, and Navin had an upset expression on his face. Enzo ran to the hose roll and began to spool it out. "Wait until I give the word!" Rico nodded. He aimed the nozzle at the wing and shouted, "Okay, Rico, open it up! Full blast!"

Rico turned the valve and instantly the hose inflated with liquid that jetted out the nozzle and against the wing's surface with a spray of white foam. Rico glanced forward and cried, "Enzo! We've got a problem!"

Enzo turned his head and snarled. "Funnel clouds! Just what we need!"

Funnel clouds were very similar to waterspouts and tornados on Earth, but didn't come and go with weather conditions. They were permanent residents in this storm, whirling in tight circles and speeds one could only guess at. The Luna Moth passed between two of them, causing the wheel to spin wildly to starboard. Samson reached for it but the robot's hand was smacked away, the force flinging him into the wall and knocking him out.

Navin realized that it was up to him. Not only was this the chance he'd been waiting for—a chance to pilot the ship—but with Samson knocked out and Enzo and Rico both busy spraying ice off the wings, it fell to him to keep the ship stable and on course. Looking at the wheel, he raised his hands and steeled himself for the stinging pain that was sure to come when he latched on. Drawing a deep breath and clenching his teeth, he shot out his arms and growled as the wheel's grips slammed into his palms. Once sure it was firmly in his grasp, he set his sights on a shaft of light dead ahead and shoved the throttle full forward.

He felt the rumble of the engines in his feet and guided the tiny airship through the twisting maelstrom purely on grit and instinct. The winding path he was forced to take took only a few minutes, but things were so tense that they seemed like hours. Rico whooped out congratulations to Samson for the flying, but Enzo wasn't so convinced and peeked into the pilothouse. He saw Navin at the wheel. "You can take over whenever you want," the boy said.

"Looks like you've got it under control," he answered. "Keep it up. Rico and I are still busy out here."

An hour later, they were coming to the eye of the storm and things were finally beginning to calm down. The wind slowed and eased off its furious howling, the rain lightened and brilliant sunlight could be seen. "It's clearing up!" Karen exclaimed.

Rico pointed. "Enzo, look!" All eyes turned forward to see a small floating diamond of stone with a doorway in the side facing them and statues of robed figures around the upper center cone. A platform circled it.

"Is that Cielis?" Emily asked. "Or what's left of it?"

"No, it can't be," Leon said, equally confused. "All surviving records indicate that the Council raised the city from the earth intact–the entire city–and that nothing was left behind. Actually, I'm not really sure what that is."

They sailed toward it slowly, the floating diamond of rock looming larger in their vision as they approached. It seemed incredibly out of place, especially here in the center of a raging storm whose origins had passed out of memory and whose winds had claimed lives beyond count. Details that had eluded them before now came into focus. Chief among them was a large door leading into the floating island and several stone statues carved from the stone—six that they could see, though they estimated that at least a dozen ran the circumference. Enzo brought the Moth to a stop above the outer platform, then Rico threw a rope ladder over the side.

Emily, Trellis, Leon, Enzo and Rico all descended the ladder. Emily was the first down, and she made use of the time it took the others to join her to get a good look at the place. The carved stone statues were immense, standing at least sixty feet tall, and all were of slender builds and had strong faces. The door was almost as high. She looked up to the Moth's gangway and saw her mother leaning over. "You and Navin should stay on the ship, Mom," she called. "We'll go check it out and come back if it's clear."

"Promise me you'll be careful!" Karen hollered back.

"I promise, Mom. This place is deserted, you've got nothing to worry about."

"That's what has me worried."

Emily couldn't keep her eyes from rolling. Her mom's insistence on worrying when there was no reason to worry sometimes grated on her. She sometimes wondered why adults didn't worry themselves to death. Then the little expedition walked through the doorway; Emily, Leon and Trellis went first, while Enzo, Rico and Luger brought up the rear. They entered into a large chamber that appeared much like they imagined the throat of a blown-out volcano would. A few dozen feet above them, smaller in diameter than the chamber, was a floating ring that rotated slowly clockwise and had crenelations on its upper side like a castle wall. The inner surface of the band was like an Oreo sandwich cookie, with two discs and a space in between for creamy vanilla filling. The middle space was recessed, and inside the recess was a long stretch of runes that none of them could read or even begin to guess at their meaning.

And in the very center of the room, floating above a raised circular platform, were several very large pieces of crystal. Runes and icons that glowed azure blue and were connected by lines adorned the shards. The images differed in shape and design, but were of the same general size. Of those they saw, there was a swirl, a circle with a single dot in the center, a circle with four dots arranged in a diamond formation, and two lines that swirled in toward each other and met at the center.

Consulting Silas' diary, Leon said, "According to the book, this island os some sort of beacon. This is some kind of puzzle that must have been placed here to test those seeking passage to the city."

Emily stared in wonder at the floating shards. "How are those suspended like this?"

"The island and these rocks," Luger answered, "are imbued with a special energy—the same energy that powers your stone."

Leon's found something in the book. "Emily. Trellis. Let's begin."

* * *

Back on the ship, Navin was yanking on a wrench trying to tighten a bolt. During his time in Alledia, he'd become proficient in many things he'd never even thought he had any talent for. Among them were piloting, as demonstrated when he flew the Moth through the funnel clouds in the storm, and mechanicking. At the moment he was trying to shore up the little vessel's reactor core, which had begun to come apart during their wild maneuvering through the storm.

He was just fitting the wrench for another turn when Samson shook his arm and meeped urgently at him. "Hey, settle down," he told it, but the little robot continued to meep like the sky was falling. "Can't you see I'm busy?" he demanded. Suddenly a hand was over his mouth, and in the next thirty seconds he and Samson were bound and gagged. Navin let out muffled growls and yells at his assailant, but the elf only turned back to him, raised the weapon in his hand and pressed a finger to his lips.

In the galley, Karen and Rico were working on lunch. "Why do I always get kitchen duty?" Rico complained mournfully as he chopped a carrot.

"Come on, Rico," Karen said cheerfully as she flipped a sizzling pan of sausages, mushrooms and beans. "We all need to eat before we get to Cielis."

"But I can't even cook!"

"This is just as important as what they're doing." Suddenly she felt the four pointed ends of some sort of weapon pressing against her head, and she froze.

"Hold still," said a grating voice. "Put your hands where I can see them."

Karen started to comply, then grabbed the panhandle and brought the dish smashing into the side of the attacker's head. "Rico! Warn the others!" Rico turned to leave, but bashed his head against a box on the wall and fell to the floor, unconscious. "No!" Suddenly she found herself raised by the throat and held against that same wall. "Let go of me!" she ordered.

The elf looking up at her grinned, showing his sharp teeth. "I don't want to hurt you," he said in a voice a smooth as silk. "I only want to join your little party. And I'll need your help."

"Or what!?" The elf's grin widened, and she almost shivered.

* * *

Emily and Trellis reached out with their minds and tapped into their stones' vast reserves of power, then guided tendrils of that power toward the crystal shards. "Very good," Leon said, nodding in approval. "Now guide the pieces together." The Stonekeepers complied with his direction and began to fit the pieces into their proper places. It took only minutes, then Trellis moved the final shard into the only place it could go. It slid into the empty space with a crystalline tap.

Suddenly the reconstructed beacon began to thrum and glow, drawing in waves of energy from all directions, then the whole chamber became filled with a deep rumbling noise. Bits of rock fell from the ceiling, then the beacon lit up brighter than the brightest lighthouse and shot a beam of blinding blue light upward through the hole at the peak of the island.

"What happens now, chief?" Enzo asked.

"We wait," Leon told him. "It's all we can do."

"How considerate of you," grated a voice that made them all turn. An elf stood at least a dozen yards away with a very angry-looking woman of slender build and blond hair between him and them, pressing some sort of weapon to her head. "Looks like we're late for the party," he told the woman.

"Mom!" Emily cried.

"Stand back, Stonekeeper!" the elf ordered. "This weapon was made to kill your kind; you don't want to see what it does to the less fortunate." He paused for a few heartbeats, then added, "Personally, I'm more than a little curious to see the results."

"That voice," Luger gasped. "I know that voice."

"You made my hunt so easy it was almost trivial. I only had to slip aboard during that wyvern attack and hide under the good captain's cargo. You were so preoccupied with finding the Flying City that you never even paused to think that maybe you had a stowaway. Really, are you so naive?"

"Shut your toothy mouth and let her go!" Emily demanded.

"I've informed the elf king of this temple's location," the elf said. "It's only a matter of time before the forces of Gulfen ravage Cielis once more." He smiled evilly at them. "How does it feel to know you're responsible for the fall of the Guardian Council?"

"Emily," Trellis whispered, "I can get you maybe ten seconds."

Without shifting her gaze, Emily whispered back, "What?"

"I can protect your mother for a brief moment. It will distract him and leave him open to attack. You'll have just enough time to strike him down."

"How do you intend to do that?"

"Just follow my lead."

The elf holding Karen hostage looked up and laughed. "Come on down, you guardian scum! We'll be ready!"

Finally something in Luger's memory clicked into place. "That's it! I know who you are!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at the elf. "You're Gabilan, the one who did this to me! You're the one who made me forget everything!"

The elf shifted his gaze to look at him and said, "I was only following your father's orders, Luger."

"My father?" Luger gasped.

"What?" Trellis blurted.

"Luger's your brother?" Emily asked.

Gabilan chuckled deep in his throat, a low and vile sound. "Oh Luger, you didn't know? I must have done a better job than I thought."

Suddenly Trellis leapt forward and cried, "Now Emily!" He lashed out with an arm of magic and snatched Karen from Gabilan's grip. Taking her cue, Emily shot a burst of brilliant red energy that caught Gabilan square in the chest and flung him backward. Trellis brought Karen to the group and set her down gently. "Now stay back," he told the others. "Emily and I will handle this." The two Stonekeepers turned to face their foe.

"Is that all you've got, Stonekeeper?" Gabilan snarled. He lifted up his left arm and a shield formed on his wrist; from his right gauntlet emerged a twelve-inch blade. "Let's see how well you fight!"

Emily lashed out with a powerful beam of magic, which Gabilan caught with his shield. The energy sank into it like a sponge. "It's absorbing their attacks!" Luger observed. The energy arced over to Gabilan's right arm and shot down the gauntlet and finally from the blade at his wrist. Emily and Trellis overcame their shock just in time to avoid the attack. Gabilan laughed.

"It's his shield!" Emily told Trellis. "Don't hit the shield!"

"I'll work my way around it," Trellis answered, and let loose with a winding beam that Gabilan also caught and turned against him. The redirected energy hit Trellis square in the gut, propelling him back through the wall and would have thrown him from the island entirely had he not managed to grab a small but sturdy plant right at the edge. He looked down into the eye of the Golbez storm below him, panting, then to draw himself back up. Bringing his eyes above the rim, he saw a boot and looked up to see who was wearing it just as a fist caught him in the face.

It's time to finish this dance, Emily, the stone told its wearer. Now focus.

Gabilan glared at her. "You Stonekeepers make me sick. Your powers were simply given to you; you never had to earn them. And still you can't defeat a simple elf. Despite your abilities, you're as perceptive as toddlers and easily outwitted."

Let's show him how we match his wits. You know what to do.

Emily let loose a tendril that flew past Gabilan and seemed to sink into the wall. Nearly too late did he realize that she'd actually pulled out an enormous rock and evaded its crushing weight by a hair. But Emily didn't stop there: She continued to pull boulders free from other places in the chamber, breaking them up until they were small but heavy enough to do the work she wanted them to do, then bringing them down on Gabilan, half-burying him. Then she plucked him from the pile. "You think you're in control," he told her, "but you're not. The stone has its own agenda. And when it's finished with you, you'll die like all the others."

"Jealousy births hatred," Emily said, then threw him out of the chamber and from the island entirely. He would have fallen to his death in the storm below had his thunderbird not caught him.


	8. Epilogue

Silence reigned in the chamber now. Emily panted like someone who had just completed a marathon at a dead sprint. Though the fight had only lasted a few minutes, to her it felt like hours. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and let it out slowly, allowing the adrenaline to run its course and wear off. Dust swirled all around her, billowing up in great clouds and curling away from her mouth every time she exhaled. She was just raising her forearm to wipe the sweat from her face when the sound of clapping hands made her whirl. "Bravo," cheered a voice.

Two men and a boy emerged from the dust. One of the men was elderly but in insanely good shape with a well-kept silver beard and hair in a flat-topped cut; the other looked maybe thirty years his junior, had hair the color of a toasted marshmallow and carried some type of weapon that looked like it came straight out of a 1950s science-fiction movie. The boy was about Emily's age with black hair that spiked upward to look like the flames of a campfire.

It was he who was applauding. "Very impressive, Stonekeeper. Sheer excellence."

Emily took in the three newcomers. "Who are you?" she asked the boy.

"Perhaps an exchange of names is in order." He gave a strong but kind smile and pressed a hand to his chest, bowing his head slightly. "My name is Max Griffin, junior patrolman of the Cielis Home Defense Corps. I'll be your escort into the city."

Emily nodded in acknowledgment. "Emily Hayes, great-granddaughter of Silas Charnon, if that name means anything to you."

Max grinned. "An honor to meet you, Miss Hayes. And it does, though I never knew him. He was a colleague of my father's."

Sometime during their exchange, the two men had gone elsewhere and Emily was only just noticing their absence. She was just about to ask where they'd gone when Karen's voices called, "Emily!"

She whirled around to see the older man holding her mother and Enzo by their wrists. "Mom!"

Max took the cue and gestured to the man. "Duncan, release them."

The old man, Duncan, did as instructed. "And the elves?"

"Tell your men to release them!" Emily demanded. "They're with me, too!"

Max nodded to the younger man. "You heard the lady, Collin."

Collin's expression looked somewhere between surprise and disbelief. "Sir, you can't be serious!"

Max's face became stern. "This young Stonekeeper may very well be a new member of the Council," he said. "I want you to treat her orders as if they were my own."

Collin hesitated a moment, then finally complied. "Yes, sir." He released Trellis and Luger, but raised his weapon and kept his eyes on the elves.

Max turned to face Luger. "Don't think this is a free pass, old man. Understand that I will be watching you like a hawk." Luger shrank back a bit and nodded once, then Max turned to the fox. "And you must be Leon Redbeard, the soldier."

Leon nodded. "Yes, sir."

Max fished a sheaf of papers from a clipped pouch at his hip and consulted them. "Funny," he contemplated. "Our reports didn't say anything about you being a fox."

Leon gasped. "That must mean you have my birth records. This curse took hold when I was a boy."

Emily nudged her mom. "Told you," she gloated, and Karen made a face.

"Well," Max said to Leon, "the Guardian Council thanks you for bringing Emily here safely. I'll take over from here." He turned to the old man. "Duncan, gather everyone and take them to the ship. We leave in ten."

Duncan nodded. "Right away."

"The elf king knows where this place is. They're probably on their way."

Max looked at her from the corner of his eye. "We know." Then he turned to face her fully and smiled. "They may know where to find the beacon, but we've taken every conceivable measure to ensure that our city's location stays secret. Don't worry about the elves."

Emily didn't think she liked that answer. It sounded good from a purely military standpoint, but something about it just seemed off somehow. Not only that, but she thought she'd caught the glimmer of something in Max's eyes…something not entirely well meant. Don't worry about the elves? That worried her more than anything, especially when she somehow felt that she could completely trust Max's assurance. In spite of this, she followed him outside, where she saw the ship he and his comrades had come in on. It was absolutely gigantic, a mountainous dome of stressed and layered canvaluminum that dwarfed the Luna Moth without even trying. Max identified it as the Guardian Angel.

They saw some of the larger ship's people throwing tow lines over the Moth's side rails and Enzo ran up. "Hey! Be careful. She was never meant to be towed."

Collin gave him a reassuring smile and patted his shoulder. "Calm down. Our people are experts." Enzo humped but didn't say anything more and let them carry on.

Emily started to follow Max up the boarding ramp that led onto his ship, then looked back at the others who were following. Samson, the small autopilot robot that lacked both expression and a voice. Navin, with a pair of welding goggles on his head, now had the countenance and expression of someone much older and who had seen more than they should have. Their mother Karen, bemused and wide-eyed as she looked at the immense ship next to the one that had brought them here. Trellis and Luger trailed at the back, Trellis looking upset like always as he supported Luger, who was hunched over with a look of intimidated exhaustion.

Trellis caught Emily's eye and wariness suffused his ever-present frown; no words were said, but the message was unmistakable. "Be careful. We might not be as safe as these people want us to feel." She nodded in acknowledgment.

The enormous ship rumbled like some beast that defied dimension, then the six engines roared and began to pull the vessel forward. Emily and Leon stood on the aft deck, watching the beacon shrink as they moved away from it. Suddenly it exploded in a ball of the brightest purple, waves of energy and chunks of the island flying in all directions. Then the shockwave hit them, billowing Emily's hair and cape.

"I don't trust these people, Leon," Emily said.

"In time, you will," he assured her. "They'll teach you things that I can't."

"But something about them doesn't add up. I don't know what or why, just that it doesn't. I'm not sure I want them teaching me."

"Emily!" Karen came jogging up with Max close behind her. "Max here has been telling me all about the school. I think it's exciting!"

This bit of information surprised Emily. "School?"

"It's why you're here, isn't it?" Max asked. "Why we're both here. We'll be trained and tested to see who among us will make up the next Guardian Council."

Duncan stepped up. "We'll be entering the jump gate soon," he reported.

"Thank you, Duncan."

Another question came to Emily's attention. "What about the current Council?" she asked. "What will happen to them?"

Max's face saddened slightly. "They're dying, Emily; not even Stonekeepers are immortal, and they're looking for their successors. The best of us will be chosen to govern Alledia. The Council believes that you, like me, have the potential to take a leadership role." They were approaching the jump gate now, which looked to Emily like all the sci-fi impressions of a black hole, but much brighter and more colorful. "Can you imagine what that kind of power must be like?" Their journey through it was just like theoretical travel through a wormhole: Instantaneous point-to-point transit, completely eliminating the time and space between. Max held out an arm toward the city before them. "Welcome to your new home, Emily."

Enzo was on the verge of crying for sheer joy. "Rico, find a camera and capture this moment. We're gonna make some postcards."

* * *

Continued in Book 4: The Last Council


End file.
